Seeing Red
by Adele Varens
Summary: An autistic boy holds the key to a crime and a dangerous new vampire in Forks. Can Edward's gift help him sort through the chaos of Michael's limitless mind in time to save both Michael and his mother, Bella? From the 2011 FGB Autism Collection.
1. Chapter 1

_Too loud! Too loud! Too loud!_

The mental voice registered pain as the child slapped his hands hard over his ears. I couldn't see them with my own eyes, but I could see them through others' eyes and hear the frustrated mother's thoughts and voice as she tried to get her son to cooperate. I paused outside the Thriftway, curious to see—in my way—what would happen.

"Please, baby, come on, we'll go home in a minute! Mommy just needs to get one more thing!"

_I can't do this anymore. Every time we go anywhere, this happens. I need help. _

"Go home!" The child yanked himself free of her grip and threw himself against a shelf of cookies. Packages rained down onto the floor. Through the child's eyes I saw the mother's face contort in a mixture of anger, sadness, and embarrassment. He felt her disappointment so acutely it actually would have taken my breath away if I'd had any. _Mommy sad. Mommy angry._

"No Michael! Look at this mess! Pick up these cookies, now!"

_Too loud, too loud, Mommy angry, Mommy angry._

_People are starting to stare at us. What are you looking at, asshole? Never seen a kid have a fit before?_

Other voices filtered in.

_That child needs a spanking!_

_That poor mother. _

_Obviously someone's been too spoiled. _

As I looked through the mother's eyes, the boy named Michael crumpled into a heap on the dirty tile floor. Tears rolled down his face. "Go home," he whispered. Images of his computer at home and the fun Web sites he would visit filled his mind.

The mother saw the end of the tantrum and knelt down to help pick up the cookies. Her thoughts were tired and overwhelmed, but at that moment her love for her child dominated everything else.

_He didn't mean it. He's sorry. God, I hate seeing him cry over this. He can't control it. I shouldn't have freaked out on him. I should have just come back later. We didn't need groceries that urgently. _

"I love you, Mikey," she told him. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"Happy?" he asked, looking at her face. _Mommy happy?_

She smiled at him. It was half sincere, half forced, but she knew she had to do it. He needed to see that the worst was over.

_Mommy happy._

The child's spirits lifted. His mother saw the change and sighed in relief. _Five bad minutes in an otherwise good trip,_ she thought as she stacked the last of the cookies back on the shelf. She held her arms out for Michael, and he leapt into them. _Mommy happy! Love Mommy!_

"Go home now?" he asked.

She nodded, picking up her basket. "Let's go pay for our groceries, and we'll go home." _Please, please be okay with that, baby. Just a couple more minutes, I promise._

"Computer?" More images of Web sites and videos played in his mind. His thoughts were disconnected, but I could sense the happiness he felt.

"Sure, you can have the computer when we get home. Step one, we pay for our groceries…" she showed him the basket. "Step two, we go home, and step three you can have the computer. Okay?"

"Okay Mommy." _Step one, groceries. Step two, go home. Step three, computer._ He began to skip down the aisle, holding his mother's hand. _Step one, groceries. Step two, go home. Step three, computer._

"What was step one?" the mother asked. _Keep him on task; remind him of the steps. I've just got to get him to the car, and then we'll be okay._

"Step one, groceries!" he answered, smiling.

"Step two?"

"Step two, go home!"

"Step three?"

"Computer!"

"Good job, baby, I'm very proud of you." She put her few items on the belt while Michael stood beside her. He was rocking back and forth, she saw. _Stimming again,_ she thought. Stimming? I wasn't familiar with the term. I made a note to look it up when I got back to the house. His thoughts were of an animated movie, perhaps something by Disney. He was mentally reciting the closing credits with incredible accuracy. His eyes were on the ceiling, and the way he rolled them made me feel almost dizzy myself. Around and around, he watched the ceiling tiles spin and blur as he rocked.

The cashier kept an eye on Michael. _What a weird kid,_ she thought. _Must be retarded or something._ She glanced at the mother, who was eyeing her back with anger. _She thinks my son's a freak._ The look on the cashier's face had been too easy to read.

"Michael, honey, come on." she reached back and took his hand. Her hand on his interrupted his recitation, sending his mind into a tailspin. He became disoriented. Sounds got louder. People were staring. _Mommy angry. Mommy angry._

"Come on, Michael, let's go to the car and go home now. Step two, remember?"

_Step two, go home. Step two, go home. Mommy angry?_

"Happy?" He read her face.

"I'm happy, baby. Let's go home."

_Go home. _

"Go home?" he asked. _Go home. Step two, go home._

"Yes, we're going home," she answered. He took her hand slowly and followed her to the doors.

They passed by me as they stepped out of the store and crossed the darkening parking lot. The mother held tightly to Michael's hand. _We'll be fine as soon as we can get to the car. Just get him in the car._ I tuned the voices out again and walked on, headed for the music shop a few doors down, my original destination. Just then, my cellphone rang.

"What is it, Alice?"

"Something's about to happen, Edward. Don't interfere, it will be bad for all of us if you do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just walk away, Edward. You have—"

_Nooooooooo!_ The volume and anguish in the voice in my head drowned out Alice completely. I turned back toward the parking lot. The boy called Michael was in the grip of a stranger who held a gun on Michael's mother.

"Please don't hurt him, please," she was begging. _I'll do anything. Don't hurt my baby! Michael, baby, please hang on!_

"Get in the car, bitch!" _She'll be fun once I ditch the kid._ His mind drew vivid pictures of exactly what he would do. My cellphone crumbled in my hand. I knew minds like his. I had hunted them before, decades earlier.

Then things got exponentially worse.

"Let gooooooo! Let goooooo! Mommy! Mommy! Ahhhhhhhh!" _Scared! Scared! Let go! Don't like this!_ _Go home!_ Michael began to struggle against the carjacker's grip. Stunned by the child's sudden and strong reaction, he brought the butt of the gun down hard against the side of Michael's head. His mother screamed as Michael slumped to the pavement.

I wasn't aware of moving or of making any conscious decision to move, but suddenly I was there between the sobbing, frightened woman and her attacker. Rage pulsed venom into my mouth, and I wanted to rip his head from his shoulders and bleed him dry. With speed only one of my kind could have seen, I tore the gun from his hand and crushed it to dust.

"You have ten seconds to run before I do the same to you," I growled at him. It took him three heartbeats—once his heart resumed beating—to understand me. He stumbled as he turned and ran off into the night. I knew his scent; I would track him later.

I closed my eyes and attempted to regain control of myself. After a few moments' hesitation as she gauged my intentions, the woman behind me sank down to the still body of her son and burst into tears.

"Don't touch him yet," I whispered, not sure how much control I had over my voice. Her thoughts were fearful as she mistook my words for a threat. I turned at last and faced her. "The blow to the head or the fall to the pavement may have caused him serious injury. Help is coming, I promise." I knew Alice would be coming, most likely with Carlisle in tow. I tried to smile to reassure her, and her thoughts became confused at first. Her heart rate increased again. I was worried I had frightened her more, but then she relaxed slightly and attempted a shaky smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. She surprised me then by laying herself down next her son in the street. _My poor baby,_ she thought over and over again as she gently brushed his hair from his face. I listened to her mind, wondering if she'd seen my inhuman speed or registered my strength in destroying her attacker's weapon, but her thoughts remained focused on the boy before her.

"Are you all right?" I asked finally, squatting down on the other side of Michael. I needed her to focus on me and on what had happened. She closed her eyes for a second. _Am I all right? I don't even know. I'm not hurt; he didn't hurt me. But Michael, he hurt my baby! I would have killed him myself if he had. I would have broken him with my bare hands…_

At that moment, her mind at last registered what she had seen. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at me. _Where did this man come from? He was just—there. And the gun, what did he do to the gun?_

"I—I think so," she answered, sitting up. Her thoughts became jumbled as she looked around for the remnants of the cheap pistol. I'd had the presence of mind to hide the evidence while her eyes were closed, so she was even more confused to find nothing where she'd expected to find…something.

_Did I imagine it? If he didn't destroy the gun, how did he save us? Why did the other one run?_

I needed to distract her before she got too far.

"I'm Edward," I said, holding out my hand. She looked at it for a moment, still confused, then grasped and shook it.

"Bella," she answered. "Bella Black. This is my son, Michael."

_We're here, Edward. The police will be here in 5 minutes; we delayed calling them as long as possible._

"Edward! Are you okay? What happened?" Alice feigned concern and raced over to us as though she had simply come out of a store and seen us sitting here on the ground. Carlisle slowed to a similarly human pace behind her, immediately kneeling down by Michael when he reached our place.

"Bella, this is my sister, Alice, and my father, Carlisle." To maintain the charade, I briefly explained what had happened. "He was pistol whipped, Carlisle. He's been out for at least 3 minutes. Bella, my father is a doctor. He can take a look at Michael if you'd like."

She turned to Carlisle and nodded. "Please!"

Carlisle began assessing Michael's condition. Alice knelt beside Bella, who was carefully watching my father work. In the distance we could hear sirens. Time was getting short to cover our tracks, if we needed to.

"He'll be okay," Carlisle pronounced. "Nothing's broken, his pupils are equal and reactive, and I don't think he'll have any serious injury, but we should get him to the hospital for a CT scan. You can hold him if you want to, Bella. I think he'll wake up soon."

_Thank God,_ she thought, before smiling at Carlisle. "Thank you so much," she said as she picked Michael up and held him. "All of you," she added after second, looking around at me. "I don't know what would have happened if—"

_I don't know what he did or how he did it, but he saved us. He must be an angel._

I wanted to laugh, but it wouldn't have been appropriate. I saw Alice smirk briefly out of the corner of my eye. _My brother, the angel of Thriftway,_ she thought.

"Don't think about that now, Bella," I told her. "Everything will be all right."

_Will it, Edward?_ Alice thought. Her mind spun with a thousand different scenarios. _I can't be sure yet._

_I thought you said it would be bad,_ I thought back at her.

_I saw you killing him,_ she explained. _That would have been bad on many levels. But you didn't, and now it will depend on Bella and what she decides to tell the police._

"Does Michael have any medical conditions, Bella?" Carlisle was already filling out a medical history in his head, preparing for the coming ride in the ambulance now turning into the parking lot.

"Yes, he's autistic," she answered, confirming my earlier suspicions. "He's on some medications…"

"Is he verbal? Does he respond to commands?"

"Some," she answered. "He can answer concrete things, his name, his phone number, things like that."

_That will make it difficult to assess his brain function when he wakes,_ Carlisle mused.

"I can hear his thoughts," I whispered low enough that only my family could hear. "Will that help?"

_It could. You should come to the hospital, _he answered.

At that moment the ambulance and a police cruiser pulled up. The EMTs, Mike and Eric, rushed up with a gurney, ready to warn us about moving Michael, but they stopped short when they saw Carlisle.

"Dr. Cullen!" Mike looked around at us. "Edward, Alice, what happened?"

"I'll be asking the questions, son. Evenin, Doc." The unfamiliar voice came from the police chief, a new transplant from Arizona. He was a tall, middle-aged man with a moustache that would make a porn star proud (not that I watched porn, of course; that was more Emmett's territory). I hadn't met him yet, but I knew Carlisle had had some interaction with him at the hospital. His thoughts were relatively calm as he prepared to take statements, until he noticed the woman and child on the ground at his feet.

"Bella?"

"Daddy!" She stood and threw her arms around him. Daddy? I looked at Alice. How could she not have seen this?

_He didn't just decide to be her father, Edward._ She stuck her tongue out at me while no one was looking. _This could be good though, he'll be more focused on finding the guy who did it than on how you saved her, right?_

Bella was sobbing against her father's shoulder as she explained what had happened.

"And then Edward came…came out of nowhere and ch-chased him off, and his family stayed to help us."

She gestured to me, and Chief Swan narrowed his eyes briefly as he took me in. His thoughts were suspicious._ Came out of nowhere, hmm? What were you doin' hanging out in a dark parking lot? Carlisle's boy, though. Looks respectable enough. We'll see how his story holds up._

He held out his hand. "I'm Charlie Swan. Thank you for helping my daughter, Edward. It's nice to meet you."

I shook his hand, careful to apply the right amount of pressure as he actually assessed my grip. I wanted to smile at the absurdity of ranking manhood by a handshake, especially considering I could shatter his bones into dust.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Chief. I'm just glad I was here to help."

He gave me another quick look before turning his attention to Michael. Eric and Mike had gotten him buckled onto the gurney and were preparing to move him. The chief's thoughts turned to his injured grandson, and his anger was palpable. _Sonofabitch,_ he growled mentally. _He'd better hope one of my deputies catches him first._

"This boy needs a head CT. He's been unconscious for 8 minutes," Carlisle was rattling off the details. We followed them to the ambulance and watched as Mike and Eric lifted and rolled him inside.

Carlisle looked at Bella. "You should probably get checked out at the hospital too, Bella. We don't want you going into shock. You too, Edward. You've all been through quite enough tonight."

"I'm not going anywhere without my son," she began to protest.

"Don't worry, Bella. You can ride in the ambulance with me, and I'll make sure you're with Michael or as close as possible the whole time. I promise," Carlisle assured her.

_Hurts._

The thought was small and weak, but the voice was familiar. "He's waking up, Carlisle," I whispered.

"Come on Bells, I'll help y'up there," the chief held out his hand for Bella and half-lifted her into the ambulance. He then stepped aside as Carlisle and Eric climbed in after. "Hey Doc," he leaned in, keeping his voice low in an attempt to keep me from hearing. "I need Edward to stay behind here a few minutes so I can take his statement. That all right? I can drive him over to the hospital myself if you're worried about him."

"No problem, Charlie. I'm sure Edward's fine, and Alice will stay behind to drive him. It's no trouble." _Be careful, Edward,_ he added mentally. _Get to the hospital as soon as you can._

The chief nodded and stepped back. He closed the ambulance doors, and a minute later we watched it pull out of the parking lot and drive into the night.

"Now, how's about you tell me what happened here, Edward?" _Make me believe it._

"I was walking past the Thriftway on my way to the music store; I was just gonna run in to pick up a package they're holding for me." That much was true, anyway. The owner of the shop, Ms. Cope, was a pro at tracking down vintage vinyl, and she'd managed to get a lead on some rare albums I wanted for my collection. She had something of a crush on me, so it had been easy to persuade her to sell them to me at a relatively low price.

_Focus, Edward,_ Alice chided.

"I was on the phone with Alice here, actually; she and Carlisle were in the car waiting for me, and she wanted me to grab something from the market. I heard someone yell, and I saw a woman—Bella—being threatened by a guy with a gun. I started heading toward them. Michael started yelling and struggling, and the guy hit him with the gun. That's when I ran over. I think he must have freaked out about what he'd done, because he just took off."

"Can you describe him?"

In minute detail, Chief, I thought to myself. But I knew I had to be vague and unsure. I was just an eyewitness, after all. With human eyes.

"Uh, he was a white guy, little shorter than me, 5'11 maybe? He had dark hair, brown I think. I'm not sure, it was getting dark, you know? He seemed kind of dirty. His jeans were ripped, and he had a plaid flannel shirt on under an old army jacket." I paused, as though trying to think of something else. "That's all I really remember. We've lived here in Forks for a while now, and I didn't recognize him."

_In a town like this, that's saying somethin,_ he thought. "You hear him say anything? Notice an accent or anything like that?"

"I know he was yelling at Bella, trying to force her into the car I think, but I didn't really notice anything particularly unusual about his voice. I'm sorry, Chief."

_Well, he seems sincere enough. I'll check the security cameras, see if they match up. _

I glanced at Alice. I'd forgotten the cameras. She winked back. _No worries, Edward. Jasper's on it. He's editing the digital files right now. They'll back you up._

"All right then, I think that'll be enough for now. Miss Cullen, do you have anything to add?"

Alice smiled at him. "It's Whitlock, actually, but you can call me Alice, Chief. No, I can't say I really saw anything that happened. Edward hung up on me rather abruptly. We heard some yelling, but by the time Carlisle and I arrived, Edward and Bella were alone with Michael." She flashed him a brilliant smile, and his eyes and thoughts unfocused momentarily. Leave it to my sister to flirt her way out of anything.

_Be glad I _can,_ Edward. _

"Okay then, you kids head on over to the hospital. I'll see you over there; I need to take care of a few things here first." He held out his hand to each of us again, and I laughed mentally as I wondered what he'd think of _Alice's_ grip.

_That I have an appropriately feminine handshake for my size, of course! _She smiled at him again, however, and his thoughts on that subject and any other were again disrupted. "Thank you, Chief Swan. I'm sorry we had to meet you under these circumstances. I hope your daughter and grandson will be all right. Come on, Edward, let's get you to Carlisle so he can fuss over you!"

_Overdoing it a bit, aren't you, sis?_ I thought.

_Shut up or I'll drive your Volvo into a tree,_ she retorted. I cringed. I didn't exactly love the Volvo, but I hated for any of my cars to be damaged. Especially since it would give Rosalie reason to show off her skills and gloat over my _slightly_ less encyclopedic knowledge. We made our way at human speed to the car, and Alice pulled out of the lot and drove the speed limit until we were out of the Chief's sight.

"Bella's very pretty, Edward," Alice observed after a couple of minutes.

"I didn't notice." An image of Bella crying in the street flashed through my head. "It wasn't like I really had a chance to admire her, given the circumstances. Besides, she's married. And human. And a mom. Not exactly my type."

_As though you even have a type. _

"Bite me," was my less-than-witty response. She smirked. The whole topic of love and mating was off-limits with me, and she knew it. She just liked to jerk my chain whenever she could. She pulled into a spot near the emergency room entrance, and we went in search of Carlisle. It didn't take long to find them.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Let go! Let go! Let go! Go home!" The yells carried down the hallway. Michael had apparently woken up. I focused on his thoughts, but they were too chaotic to make anything out except for the occasional _Mommy!_ Bella's thoughts, on the other hand, were distraught. _I hate seeing him like this. My poor baby!_ She was watching as Carlisle and a nursed wrestled with Michael, trying to keep him on the bed.

"We're here, Carlisle," I said casually as we walked in. "How's he doing?"

"Well, he's awake, obviously," he chuckled. _He just regained consciousness a minute ago and started flailing and yelling almost immediately. We haven't given him anything yet. Can you read him?_

"Looks like he could use a hug from his Mommy," I said by way of response, smiling at Bella. She returned the smile gratefully, and seeing Carlisle nod his assent, she rushed to Michael's side. He threw his arms around her so tightly that she winced in pain but immediately dismissed it as irrelevant. I admired her ability to compartmentalize her thoughts and emotions. All that mattered was getting Michael settled and making sure he was okay. Carlisle stepped back and let her take over, coming to stand by Alice and me.

_Is he feeling pain, Edward?_ Carlisle asked. I focused on Michael.

_Hurts. Hug Mommy. Go home. Where's Daddy? Hurts. Go home!_

"His head aches, but he doesn't seem to care; it just registers as pain," I whispered. "He can't express the pain and doesn't know what to do about it. He wants Bella. He's scared and wants to go home. He's also wondering about his father."

"Where's Daddy?" Michael asked Bella at the same moment. She sighed as she sat down beside him on the bed. Images of a large Native American man passed through her thoughts. I recognized him as Jacob Black, son of one of the Quileute leaders on the La Push reservation. Jacob had grown up on the reservation but had gone to school in Arizona and only recently had returned to the area. That explained Bella and her father's arrival in town. They must have come up here to be with Jacob.

"Daddy's coming, baby," she answered. _Why did he have to be out of town _now,_ of all times?_ She remembered dropping Jacob at the airport in Seattle. "He'll be here as soon as he can." _At least as soon as I can get hold of him. He's probably got his phone off while he gambles or fucks a cocktail waitress. What happens in Vegas…_

Carlisle stepped forward again, interrupting Bella's thoughts. "I'd like to try to get his blood pressure now that he's calm, Bella. Do you think he'll let me?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. He doesn't like doctors in general, but we can try." A collection of memories, all of various disastrous doctors' visits, flashed through her mind. _What's one more humiliation?_ She thought, and then chided herself for it. _He can't help it. Let's just get it over with._

"Carlisle," Alice spoke up suddenly. "Maybe we should call Jasper, he might have a suggestion." She turned to Bella. "My husband is studying to be a psychologist, Bella," she explained. "He specializes in emotionally challenged people. Maybe he could help?"

"That would be great, Alice, if you're sure it's not too much trouble. We haven't been able to find anyone locally who works with autistic kids, and the doctor in Seattle had a four-month waiting list. We've been just sort of coping until we can get him in somewhere." _Even a psychologist in training is better than none at all,_ she thought. _Who knows? Maybe he can recommend someone locally for me, as well. Although the doctor would have to be a mind reader to make sense of my scrambled brain._

I coughed to cover the laugh I couldn't quite hold back. A mind reader, hmm? Bella glanced at me in confusion. Alice stepped in to cover my gaffe.

"I'll call Jasper right now. He should be able to get here in a few minutes; we don't live very far away." _Nice move, little brother. Smooth._ "Carlisle, do you want to check out Edward while we're waiting? It sounds like he's got a bad cough developing; perhaps he's going in to shock or something." _Come on before you really step in it, dumbass,_ she added for my benefit.

"Oh, yes, of course," Carlisle agreed. "Come on, Edward. Bella, excuse us for a few minutes." He and Alice walked ahead of me. I half-smiled awkwardly at Bella and nodded. She frowned slightly at me in puzzlement. _I can't make him out,_ she thought as she nodded back. I turned to go.

"Edward," she called out. I stopped and looked back.

"Thank you for what you did tonight. It was…" _Crazy. Unexpected. Unexplainable. Supernatural?_ "very brave."

Alarmed by the path her thoughts had taken, it took me a second longer than it should have to respond.

"Er…it was…I'm glad I could help, Bella. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to get to you sooner."

"You saved us, Edward." She looked me in the eye, and for the first time I really saw her. Alice was right; she _was_ pretty. Her eyes, although still puffy and reddened from crying, were a deep shade of chocolate brown I had never seen before. "I'll never forget what you did for me and especially for my son." _It doesn't matter how you did it or who or what you are. _

Panicking internally, I smiled at her. "You're welcome, Bella." I turned and left the room as casually as I could, but once out of her sight I gripped my hair in both hands and tried to figure out how I was going to get us out of this mess.

_Stop that. You look like you're freaking out,_ Alice's thoughts reached me before she turned the corner at the nurses' station, where Carlisle was filling out paperwork and eyeing me cautiously. _It's going to be okay, Edward. Unless you keep letting your sense of humor slip out inappropriately._ _See? _Her mind whizzed through a dozen versions of the future before settling on one that seemed more concrete than the rest. In it, Bella was telling her father that she knew I wasn't involved in the attack and asking him to leave my family alone. _"They're good people, Dad,"_ she was telling him._ "Stop being so suspicious of everyone."_

_She won't tell anyone her suspicions, Edward. Whatever she may come up with, she'll keep it to herself. We just have to be cool and not give her reason to be any more inquisitive than she is already._

"Too much for her own good already," I answered aloud.

_You think too much, brother!_ A wave of calm settled over me.

I turned to see my brother approaching from the other end of the corridor. Alice ran to him and leapt into his arms with a squeal.

"Hi baby!" She kissed him, and he laughed. "You're just in time!"

"You called, and I came, Sweet," he smiled at her. "The tapes are all taken care of; they were low-res digital files anyway, it didn't take much to edit them."

"Thanks Jas," I answered. "Thanks for coming, too; we think you'll have the most luck in there." I gestured toward the room where Bella and Michael were waiting. Carlisle walked up to us then.

"Shall we go in? I really want to get Michael in for a CT as soon as we're able; it's been longer than I would like already. I don't want to have to sedate him either, if we can avoid it."

We walked as a group back to Michael's room. Bella looked up as we entered. Michael was staring at the ceiling again, mentally reciting the same movie credits as he'd done earlier in the store.

"Bella, this is my husband, Jasper," Alice pushed Jasper forward. He smiled and held out his hand for Bella.

"Pleased to meet you, Bella."

She returned his smile. "Thank you for coming, Jasper."

" And who do we have here?" he asked, turning to Michael.

"This is Michael," she answered. "Michael, can you say hi to Jasper?"

Michael continued his mental recitation, failing to register his mother's voice at all. His mind simply dismissed the distraction completely. It fascinated me, being unlike anything I'd experienced before in a human. It wasn't very different from what I did to tune out the outside voices I heard in my own mind. Certainly I had come in contact with autistic people in the past but only in passing; I'd never taken the time to listen to them. Michael's mind was both extremely sharp and detailed with regard to things that interested him and yet slow and disconnected when something failed to interest or frustrated him.

"Michael?" Bella called again. This time her voice broke through. "Michael, say hi to Jasper."

"Hi to Jasper," he repeated before zoning out again.

Carlisle moved next to Michael on the other side. "I'm going to try to take his blood pressure again; let's just see how it goes, okay?"

Bella nodded. "Okay."

It took only a second. Carlisle's cold hand on his arm registered sharply in Michael's thoughts, causing him to react with sudden and uncontrolled violence. It was so unexpected that Carlisle almost wasn't able to react humanly—with the surprise and alarm a human would show as well as the instinct to step back and away from the potential danger. Bella rushed forward to grab hold of Michael's flailing limbs, getting a scratch to the face and a head butt to the chest for her efforts. Her mind registered the pain with more intensity this time, but she held back her reaction and focused on Michael.

_Wow,_ Jasper thought, glancing my way. _This kid has no control at all, does he?_ I shook my head imperceptibly. He leaned forward then and began calling Michael's name and talking to him quietly. Meanwhile, he began sending small ripples of calm toward Michael, testing his need and trying to settle him without tipping Bella off that any outside forces were at work. I could hear that his voice was gradually getting through the maelstrom in Michael's mind. Soon the ripples had graduated to waves, which spilled over to Bella as well, giving her a chance to catch her breath. She released her hold on Michael as his body relaxed, and she watched Jasper carefully and with some surprise as he interacted with him.

"Not too much, Jas, we don't want him to fall asleep," Carlisle cautioned in a whisper. Jasper stepped back, reducing the force of his gift as he did until it was just enough to keep Michael's emotions in check.

_Wow,_ Bella thought.

"Wow, that was amazing, Jasper," she said aloud. "I've never seen him react to anyone so well. You have a real gift."

_You have no idea,_ Alice thought with a smile. Jasper chuckled. "Thank you, Bella." He continued sending smaller waves of calm toward Michael and Bella both as Carlisle slid the blood pressure cuff onto Michael's arm. Michael watched and pulled back now and then, trying to free his arm, but Jasper simply talked to him quietly—under the pretense of using a "therapeutic technique"—while in reality increasing the level of calming force until Michael was able to settle down again. Within a few minutes Carlisle had finished taking Michael's vital signs and was preparing to move him to radiology.

"I'd like Jasper to come with us, if you don't mind, Bella," Carlisle said as he raised the side rails on Michael's gurney. "We'll need Michael to stay as calm as possible during the test, and I'd really rather not have to restrain or sedate him unless we have to."

"That's fine with me, Dr. Cullen," she replied. Carlisle rolled Michael toward the door, and Jasper followed. Bella hung back for a moment.

"Edward, Alice, will you stay? I'd really appreciate it. I don't have any friends here…" She trailed off. _It'd be nice to have someone to talk to,_ she thought.

"Absolutely, Bella!" was Alice's rather enthusiastic response. "We'll stay as long as you need us."

Bella smiled. "Thank you." Then she disappeared out the door after her son.

"Alice, what—" My question was cut off by the images that suddenly filled Alice's thoughts.

_She's going to be my friend, Edward!_ Alice thought with unrestrained joy. _A real friend!_

"Alice," I warned. "It's too dangerous."

"No it's not. Look! Nothing to worry about!" She showed me more images, snapshots of her and Bella laughing, shopping, even out dancing together. "We'll be great friends; I'm sure of it."

"Well, Bella could sure use some friends," a voice from the doorway said. Chief Swan had arrived. "Where are Bella and Michael? The nurse said this was his room?"

"Carlisle's taken Michael up to radiology for a CT scan, just to be sure he doesn't have a concussion or any internal injuries," I told him. "Michael's awake; there was a little bit of trouble getting him to cooperate, but things have settled down a bit now."

"Hmpf, I'm sure there was trouble," he chuckled. "My grandson's not exactly the easiest kid to handle, and he really hates doctors."

"My husband Jasper is with him now," Alice interjected. "He's a psychologist. He seemed to be able to get Michael settled, so he stayed with him to keep things as calm as possible."

"You folks are pretty good people to have around, it seems," he observed. _Helpful. Too helpful? Not sure about them yet._ "Thank you for all of your help."

"We're glad we can, sir," I answered. "I guess we should find a waiting room or something. I hope you don't mind, sir, Bella asked us to stay."

"Fine with me. Come on, let's go find some chairs." We followed him out of the room and down the hall to the waiting area. He took a seat opposite Alice and me and eyed us when he thought we wouldn't notice. The silence in the room was in sharp contrast to the flurry of thoughts running through Alice's brain as she planned parties and girls' days out and other human nonsense with Bella. Suddenly, her eyes unfocused, and a new image appeared. I nearly growled as I recognized the face of Bella's attacker, right here in the hospital. A second later a deputy appeared at the waiting room door.

"Chief?"

_Oh Lord, now what's happened? _"Garrett? What's up?" Chief Swan stood, and Alice and I did the same, knowing we'd be needed.

"Sir, a man was just brought in who matches the description of your daughter's carjacker. He was the victim of an apparent hit and run and was found in the woods off the highway about half a mile from the Thriftway. A passerby saw him and called it in. I knew you were already here, so I hope you don't mind, I just had him brought in and left Ben at the scene to do the forensic stuff."

"_Forensic stuff." Christ, small towns and their limited resources,_ the chief grumbled, thinking of the much larger budget and staff of criminalists he'd worked with in Arizona. "Fine, yeah. Let's go have a look at the sonofabitch." He started for the door then stopped, remembering me. _Might as well get a witness ID while I'm at it._ "Edward, why don't you come along with me and see if you recognize this guy."

"Sure, Chief," I answered, following him and the deputy out.

"I'll wait here for Bella and Michael," Alice called after us.

We made our way down the corridor and around to another section of the emergency room, where I recognized Dr. Gerandy among a crowd of nurses.

_Broken pelvis, shattered tibia, possible skull fracture,_ he was thinking as he assessed the man on the bed. _Semiconscious, disoriented, appears to be hallucinating, something about red eyes._

My attention, which I had begun to wane as I focused on Bella's attacker, snapped back to Dr. Gerandy at these last words. Red eyes? I turned back to the carjacker. His thoughts were clouded by pain, but there was a consistent image in all of them, a woman with red hair, pale skin, and crimson eyes.

Another vampire.

"We need to get this man up to radiology and then prep him for surgery, now," Dr. Gerandy called out. "Call the OR; have them get a room ready."

"Doc?" Chief Swan called as he walked up beside the doctor.

"Hey Chief," he answered brusquely. "I'm sorry but I need to get this patient ready to go upstairs."

"Yeah, I know, I'd like Edward here to take a look at this guy before he goes, if that's all right." He waved me over. Dr. Gerandy looked at both of us and nodded.

"Sure, but do it quickly. Anything I should know?"

I stepped up beside both of them and took a moment to examine the man below me. I knew he was the right man, but I had to pretend to look him over. It gave me a chance to better focus my attention on his thoughts, which had drifted into an almost dreamlike hallucination—a memory. The redheaded vampire was talking to him inside a car. Her voice was seductive, and her eyes were not red but violet, undoubtedly from contact lenses.

"_Bring me the boy. The woman is yours to play with, baby."_ She kissed him, and his body reacted with both anticipation and an innate sense of fear, knowing instinctively that it was in danger, even as it became aroused by her proximity. It added to his lust, making him hungry for more._ "Go, now, they'll be coming out of the store any minute." _She kissed him again and let him out of the car at the far end of the parking lot. He crept between the cars and waited. _What fun I'll have, _he thought. _I'll take Victoria her brat and have his mother as my personal pet._

Her name was Victoria.

"Is this him, Edward? Take your time." Chief Swan was getting impatient with my hesitation, wondering again if I was somehow involved.

"It's hard to tell, he's so badly injured and it was dark, you know," I stalled. "I just need to really look at him and think for a minute, can I do that?"

"Hurry, son," Dr. Gerandy pressed. "He needs medical attention, now."

"_He crushed my gun! And he had these strange yellow eyes!" _I saw myself in the man's thoughts now, as he stood in the woods down the road from the Thriftway, begging Victoria to forgive him. _"I can get the boy, I promise! I just freaked after I hit him and he fell down—"_

"_Your excuses are useless to me."_ Her voice was cold and brittle, no longer seductive. He looked up in time to see that her eyes were no longer violet, but a terrifying crimson. _"And now so are you."_

His memory ended in blackness.

"This is him," I told the others. "This is the man who attacked Bella and Michael."

Now I just needed to find out why.

After dismissing me with a curt "Thank you, Edward" and a handshake, Chief Swan followed as the man was wheeled out of the emergency room and into an elevator. When the doors were closed, I pulled out my cellphone.

"Em? I need a favor."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time I returned to the waiting room, it was empty. I heard Alice's voice coming from Michael's room, so I headed that way. She gave me a quick look as I entered. _I heard your conversation with Emmett, and I passed the word on to Carlisle and Jasper that we're watching for a redheaded vampire. But what does it all mean, Edward? Why would a vampire go after any human child, let alone this one in particular? And why would she recruit a human to do it instead of taking care of it herself? _

I shrugged slightly before turning to Bella, who was holding Michael in her arms. She smiled at me, and despite everything I couldn't help returning her smile. "How are you doing, Michael?" I asked, making eye contact and attempting to engage him. His mind processed my words and, as though searching through a file drawer, it came up with a response.

"Fine thank you, how are you?"

Rather than being an instinct to answer or a curiosity about me, however, his answer was rote, as though he'd been programmed to give it. I realized he must have been taught to respond to specific social cues appropriately, even though they had no meaning for him. In the meantime, however, the rest of his mind was moving at an almost vampiric pace through lists of various things such as movie titles, American presidents, and types of dinosaurs. Another area of his brain was literally playing out another Disney movie. It was no wonder to me now why he rolled his eyes around so frequently; there was so much to see inside his head that his human eyes couldn't register all of it!

"I'm very well, thank you for asking," I replied, but he was already focused on something else.

"Your father says he's going to be okay," Bella added. "He wants to keep him here for the rest of the night, but the X-rays showed no serious injury." _Thank God._

"That's wonderful news, Bella, I'm glad to hear it. I'm afraid Alice and I have to go now, though; I've checked out okay and visiting hours are over."

"Oh, right," she replied. _Damn,_ she thought with disappointment.

"I do have some news I should probably tell you, although your father will be able to tell you more than me, I imagine. They've arrested the man who attacked you today. He's here in the hospital; they think he was hit by a car, of all things."

_Karma's a bitch._ "That's good news, Edward, but do you suppose we're in any danger here? I mean, if he's in the hospital?" _Although if he comes near my son again, he'll be the one in danger. _

I wanted to laugh. The idea of tiny Bella going up against her attacker would have been amusing under other circumstances. She seemed almost breakable in her humanity. But the rage behind her thoughts and the protective force of her love for Michael held me in check; she could not harm me in the slightest, yet given the strength of her anger, even I might think twice before getting in her way.

"Of course not, don't worry," I assured her. "He's badly injured and under arrest. Your father's here and I'm sure he'll have someone keeping an eye on you both." Not to mention at least a half-dozen concerned vampires standing guard in and around the hospital. I couldn't count on Rosalie, but I knew Esme would help as well once she heard the whole story. Probably _before_ she heard it, if I were to be honest.

_She's coming with Emmett,_ Alice confirmed. _Rosalie too, but only because Emmett made her. Be careful, Edward, Rose is pissed that you got us "tangled up" with the humans. _

_Of course she is. Rosalie's annoyed with me—must be Tuesday._

"Well, we'll be going now Bella. If we can be any help to you, please let us know. I'm sure by now Alice has gotten your phone number, address, birthday, Michael's birthday, and all other vital statistics…"

Bella laughed. "Yes, you could say that."

"What?" Alice said, looking between us. "So I'm thorough! It's not every day I meet someone new in this town, you know." She glared at me.

"I can understand that!" Bella said, still laughing. "I've been here only a couple of weeks, and I thought I'd met the whole town until tonight. Everyone seems to know everything and everyone here." _Except the Cullens, apparently. Only gossip and rumors about them_, _nothing even remotely specific. Rich, reclusive, standoffish…but they certainly don't seem antisocial or stuck up to me. Probably just small-town, small-minded prejudices._

"True, there are few secrets in this town," I replied. "But that means we'll probably see you again very soon. Good night, Bella." I offered my hand.

"Good night, Edward." She took it slowly. "Thank you so much."

I'd touched humans before, of course, but Bella's hand was warmer than I expected. Softer. I had the oddest impulse to linger there and not let go. Meeting her eyes, I felt strangely out of sorts. Alice coughed mentally. _You gonna shake her hand or just keep it for eternity?_

"Sorry." I'd have blushed if it were possible. I noticed the color rise in Bella's cheeks, but her thoughts were suddenly quiet, as though the volume had been muted. I struggled to hear what she was thinking, but I couldn't. It made me feel even more disoriented than before.

"You're welcome," I said finally, breaking the connection. "Good night, Michael," I added.

"Good night Edward," he replied, looking at me directly for the first time. "The lady had red hair like you."

The words came without conscious thought, so they took me completely by surprise.

"What lady, sweetie?" Bella asked, puzzled. "You mean Alice? Her hair is brown, not red like Edward's." _Although Edward's isn't really red so much as copper or something. Where did he see a redheaded lady?_ "Oh wait, do you mean Mrs. Cope, baby? Her hair is kind of red."

"The lady had red hair," he repeated. I searched his mind for something more, but I got only the vaguest impression of long red hair. I knew Mrs. Cope at the music store had short hair, so it wasn't her. There was no defining characteristic to confirm it, but somehow, I knew.

Michael had seen Victoria. And not in the parking lot at Thriftway.

**This chapter was written as part of the Fandom Gives Back Autism fundraiser in April 2011. Thank you to those who donated to this cause, which is near and dear to me because my own son is autistic. How I wish I had an Edward to get inside my son's mind and tell me what's really going on in there.**

**I will continue this story, but for the first time I'm posting a story without having it written in advance, so I can't tell you yet what my writing schedule will be or how often I'll update. Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll stick with me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm sorry for the delay in posting. It will probably be like this for a while, because my real life has gotten a bit crazy in the past 2 months and will continue to be crazy for the foreseeable future. However, I do have an outline, I know where this story is going, and as soon as I have time and can get over a nasty bout of writer's block, I promise I will continue writing it. **

**To help me with that particular Mission: Impossible, I am honored to say that Jessypt, author of The Diner and Seeing Daylight, has agreed to be my dom—er, beta—and keep me on track. If you haven't read her work, you should do so RIGHT NOW, but be prepared to be craving cupcakes the ENTIRE time you're reading The Diner!**

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><p>"It's too dangerous for any of us to be involved!" Rosalie's voice was raised by vampire standards, although still low enough that a human would have trouble hearing her.<p>

"Rose, if there's a vampire in Forks, we have to get involved," I answered. "At the very least, she's likely to feed nearby, which would break the treaty, and if she's after Michael, then we have to stop her!"

"But we don't need to become best friends with the humans, Edward," she argued. "For Christ's sake, Alice is already planning slumber parties and spa days with the mother!"

"I _am_ not!" Alice piped up. We all looked at her. "Okay, I am, but so what? Bella won't be a problem. I've seen it." Her mind spun through a hundred scenarios involving her and Bella. I rolled my eyes. Alice didn't remember being human, and she'd watched too many female-centric movies over the past few decades. Her entire concept of "being a girl" was based on them. Knowing the female mind as intimately as I (unfortunately) did, I knew better, but I could never dissuade her from her illusions.

"Well, I can't avoid being involved, and neither can Jasper at this point," said Carlisle. "Michael will be under our care for at least the next 18 hours. On top of that, Edward is the eyewitness to the incident as well as a suspect in Chief Swan's mind, so until the crime is resolved one way or another, he's stuck. We need help figuring this out and possibly patrolling the town for signs of this Victoria. Obviously, I can't force any of you to help, Rosalie, but I'd appreciate it."

Rose frowned and pouted. "I just don't see why we have to risk exposure for a couple of humans," she mumbled. "Besides, she's married to a Black, right? Isn't she living on the reservation? Can't the _dogs_ protect her?"

"There hasn't been a wolf in La Push in seventy years," Carlisle answered. "The younger generations don't even believe in the legend anymore. I doubt Bella's even heard the story, let alone puts any stock in it. The fact she wasn't afraid of us and let us treat her and her son is a sure sign she's unaware of the treaty. Plus, I know from Chief Swan that Bella and Michael are actually staying with him at the moment, so they're in our territory and thus not under Quileute protection."

"That doesn't automatically make them our problem, Carlisle."

"But the vampire chasing them is very much our problem," I interjected. "Bella, Michael, Chief Swan—they aren't equipped to protect themselves against a vampire, even if they knew we existed. And if we don't handle the problem, we risk exposure by Victoria's actions, as well."

"Hmpf." Another pout. "Fine. I'll help, but I'm not becoming BFFs with the woman. Keep me out of it, Alice; I mean it."

"Thank you, Rose." Carlisle turned to Jasper. "What do you think?"

"For now we need to locate this Victoria and assess her intentions. Emmett and I have tracked her scent around the area where the carjacker was attacked but not beyond, so she's traveling at least some of the time by car or other vehicle."

"Sports car," I remembered from the carjacker's memory. "Leather interior. Not sure of anything else; he was more focused on her."

"Well, gee, that narrows it down," Rose snapped.

"How many sports cars have you seen in Forks lately that aren't driven by us?" I spat back. "The standard mode of transport around here is a pickup truck covered in mud!"

"She may have ditched the car by now anyway, so it's probably a moot point. Still, we should keep our eyes open," Jasper continued. "Carlisle and I can handle the hospital. Alice can stay close to Bella, keep an eye on things once she and Michael go home. Emmett, Rose, and Esme should patrol our territory around Forks for any indication of where Victoria is living, where she's been, and if she's alone. Edward can patrol the town and be on hand to help with Michael when we need him as well as keep track of what Bella and the Chief are thinking. If the carjacker survives, we'll need to keep tabs on him as well."

"Another moot point," Alice interrupted. "Dr. Gerandy is about to pronounce his death."

"Let's hope the hit and run story holds, then," said Carlisle. "Otherwise, we've had a human die at vampire hands in Forks for the first time in a century. If the Quileutes get wind of this, there could be trouble, wolves or no wolves."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, as I searched the town for any trace of the mysterious Victoria, I wondered again how Bella and Michael could have attracted her interest. Michael was special, obviously, but not in any way that could possibly benefit a vampire, at least as far as I could see. He was erratic, unpredictable, emotionally unstable, developmentally delayed, and despite his incredible mental speed and ability still very much mentally challenged. There had to be something about him that made him desirable to her, but what? She couldn't simply be after him as a food source, or she wouldn't have gone to so much trouble. She'd have simply killed Bella and Michael herself and drained them both.

Why the human carjacker then? Why the ruse?

_She was hiding._

The only reason a vampire would use a human for cover would be to hide from other vampires. A disappearance with no trace whatsoever would have gotten our attention just as surely as a bloodless body found in a public place. We would have investigated and picked up her scent, the trace of her venom on the bodies, and pursued her, if only to ensure our own safety from discovery. But a carjacking? We would almost certainly have dismissed it as another human crime against humans. It would have been big news here in Forks, for certain—the town would have been in a state of panic for months. But we would have merely shaken our heads and offered vain hopes for a safe return, just as the other humans would have done.

My cellphone rang.

"She knew about us," I answered, knowing it was Alice.

"Clearly. The question is, how much does she know? I can't see her. She knows enough to block me somehow. She must have a gift of some kind, a shield perhaps."

"She could just be laying low, now that she knows we're involved. Perhaps she's backed off and hasn't made any decisions about how to proceed," I argued. "That doesn't mean she knows anything about us or what we can do, but it does mean she'll be even more careful now, assuming she still wants Michael."

"That's the other thing I don't get. What could she want him for? He's adorable and sweet when he's not freaking out, but as a vampire—especially a newborn—he'd be utterly uncontrollable. Never mind that the Volturi would come down on both of them if she turned him before he was old enough."

She had a point. Why now? If Victoria's goal was to turn Michael, why not wait until he was of age and likely to be separated from his parents more often? What would ten years of waiting be to an immortal?

"We're missing something. There's something about Michael in particular that she wants. Bella was insignificant to her."

"Edward, I have to go; Bella's leaving Michael's room in a minute." She hung up. I jumped onto the roof of the police station and paused to listen to the voices inside.

"_Cullen. C-U-L-L-E-N. Edward."_ The Chief was checking me out, apparently. Our personal histories and backgrounds were impeccably forged, but it gave me a moment's panic anyway. It wouldn't be the first time we'd been checked out by a particularly thorough public servant, but it had been nearly three-quarters of a century since we'd used the Cullen name, long before records were kept with any degree of reliability, and we were living in Hoquiam then anyway. Only the Quileutes knew us for who we were and by that name, and those who'd met us in the woods when we made the treaty were long dead.

"_No, he died on the operating table. Internal bleeding, apparently."_ _And good riddance,_ he thought. _"Suspect's fingerprints have come back as Lonnie James, priors for armed robbery, rape, aggravated assault, aggravated sexual assault, and home invasion."_ A pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone. _"Nothing on Edward Cullen? You're sure?"_ A pen scratched on paper. _Straight A student, not even a traffic ticket. Is this kid for real?_ _"What about the family?"_ _There's something about them._ _"Yeah, Carlisle Cullen, he's a doc at Forks General."_ _Nothing._ _"What about Jasper Whitlock? Do you show any school records or enrollments for him? He's supposed to be studying to be a psychologist."_ A pause. _"No, I don't know what school. I'll find out and get back to you."_

My phone beeped with a text.

_Transcripts for Jasper in the works. No worries._

I rolled my eyes and typed an answer.

_Oh, good. I was paralyzed with panic._

Before I hit Send, a second text came through.

_:P Bite me, Edward._

I laughed quietly and listened in on the rest of Chief Swan's call. He didn't seem to find anything incriminating, and when his thoughts turned to gratitude toward us and worry for his family, I moved on. Assuming nothing else happened to change his mind, the Chief would not be a threat to us.

All we had to do was protect him, his daughter, and her son from a vampire without being discovered, breaking the treaty, or getting killed ourselves.

No problem.

I made my way toward the hospital, wanting to check in with Carlisle and Jasper and listen in on Michael again if I could. With any luck he'd be sleeping, and I could possibly get a better fix on his mind. I'd have to put in some real time getting to know the sound of his mental voice—or rather, mental voices—if I was going to make any sense of his thoughts. Reading Michael's mind was like listening to many minds at once, all of them disconnected and pursuing different trains of thought. It would be easier for me once he was taken home and the number of people around him was reduced to Bella, the Chief, and possibly Jacob Black; I'd be better able to tune out all but Michael's mind then.

I found an empty closet near Michael's room and perched on a box of medical supplies. I wanted to avoid interruptions and especially wanted to avoid running into Bella. I turned off my phone as well, knowing Alice would know where to find me if anything happened.

I'd never had to work very hard to isolate a single mental voice when I wanted to, but in this case I needed to learn not only what Michael was thinking but HOW he thought, how the images in his mind were formed and how they related to each other. Although it was unnecessary, I closed my eyes and began to listen.

_Temperature's elevated, possible infection...  
><em>  
><em>Please God, let my mom be okay...<br>_  
><em>Dr. Cullen's wife is one lucky woman. I'd love to play doctor with him...<em>(Oh yuck.)

_These nights get longer and longer. I really need some new shoes...  
><em>  
><em>Mommy happy.<em> A vision of Bella smiling told me I'd found Michael's mind. In his dream she was holding him and spinning, and he watched her face and laughed with her. As the world spun by him he tried to make out the trees and cars, but they were only blurs. Only Bella was clear._ Love Mommy._

I watched her through his eyes, and it was clear he worshipped her. His image of her was almost lit from within, making her brown eyes seem to glow with happiness. Her long waves of hair twirled out into the wind as she swung Michael around, and every time he laughed she smiled wider and laughed harder. She was everything to him, and in her love for him she was incredibly beautiful.

_Mommy happy...  
><em>  
>The image faded as he shifted in his sleep. A few moments of silence followed, while his mind drifted back into REM sleep. His next dream was far less pleasant.<p>

_Hurts._

The carjacker towered above him. In the child's mind his face was twisted in dark and horrifying ways. _Scared. Let me go! Mommy! Mommy!_

"_Michael! Michael, honey, wake up!"_ Bella's voice broke through my concentration as she shook Michael awake from his nightmare. As he opened his eyes, I saw her standing over him, worry etched deep into her face. Her hair was wild and tangled from sleeping on the small sofa in Michael's room, and her eyes were red rimmed, from lack of sleep or crying I wasn't sure. Still, the sight of her immediately calmed Michael, and in his eyes she remained as beautiful as he had seen her in his dream. When I looked at her again, she was glowing with his love.

"_Did you have a bad dream, baby?"_ she cooed, sitting down next to him on the bed and putting her arms around him. He didn't understand the question, and she knew it; her thoughts showed no expectation of an answer. She had seen him twitching and heard him whimpering in his sleep, and that was answer enough. _"It's okay, Mommy's here."_ She rocked him gently. _"Mommy's here. I'll always be here for you, baby. No matter what."_ She began to sing to him as she continued rocking.

Her gentleness with him sparked something in me. A vague fragment of a human memory arose in my mind—long curls of auburn hair, the same shade as mine, soft and floral scented; the feel of warm, comforting arms around me; a soft voice singing a lullaby above me. A vision long forgotten was suddenly as clear in my mind as though she were here with me now. I couldn't see her face, but her scent and sound and feel surrounded me.

My mother.

I no longer cared who saw me. I burst from the closet and ran.

If my heart had been beating, I imagine it would have been pounding through my chest. Cold and dead as that organ was, I could almost feel it swelling inside me nonetheless. I was overwhelmed. It had been decades since any real human feeling or memory had passed through me besides rage. I had spent most of my limitless existence in a state of determined indifference, even boredom, passing my decades with music and books and little else while the mated couples around me lived in their states of perpetual love. Tuning out all emotion was my way of coping with the eternity of isolation I was clearly destined to live. Not reacting, not feeling, not fully participating in the human charade made this life tolerable.

With one moment of love, Bella shattered me.

When I hit the cover of the forest I roared, trying to give some release to the powerful emotions now running through my brittle veins. The echo that bounced back to me off the mountains was a pathetic wail of grief and heartache. It had been more than three-quarters of a century since I had even thought of my human mother. To feel her now, in my mind, in my senses, was like reliving her loss all over again, as well as the loss of my father and my own humanity. In truth, it was worse, because I had never fully grieved those losses.

I recalled those first days after I woke into this life, and the newborn rage and thirst that had all but eclipsed any human feelings and memories. Carlisle had tried to help me retain them, painstakingly describing my parents so that I might picture them in the future, but his recollections, although detailed as only a vampire's recollection can be, had always been lacking. When we had traveled back to Chicago so that I could claim my legacy, I was able to see my parents—and myself as I had been—in the photographs and portraits that decorated the house. I had captured their scents in my memory through the remnants in their clothes and their beds, but those had been weakened by time and tainted by dust.

Now, although I ran through a lush forest heavily laden with the blood of animals and the fragrances of a thousand varieties of flora, I could smell only her. I didn't feel the ground beneath my feet or the wind that whipped my hair into an even wilder state. There was only her touch, her arms around me, her fingers in my hair, her voice.

Only the love of a child could capture a memory with such perfection. No secondhand description or time-weary collection of memories could ever have been enough. As Michael saw Bella—glowing, and as a source of love, happiness, safety, and comfort—I too had once envisioned my own mother. And with that memory came another.

I remembered love.

I cared for my vampire family. I would do anything for them. I loved each and every one of them (some more than others), in my own way. I knew now that I had never given them what they deserved. I hadn't been capable. I had forgotten how to love and how to be loved.

The pain was excruciating. Reclaiming my humanity was almost comparable to the fires of venom that had taken it from me. Every life I had taken took on greater significance, and my guilt, already heavy, increased exponentially. What would my mother have thought of the creature I had become? Of the things I had done? Carlisle believed she had wanted this life for me, that she had seen him for who he was and had asked him to change me rather than let me die. If that was true, would she have forgiven me for the crimes I had committed, for the lives I had taken?

The loneliness of my existence was also more powerfully brought home to me. How many chances at love had I missed in my frozen state? I had seen love in all its forms through a million minds, but it had never touched me, had never seemed necessary or even sensible. Love, for humans and vampires alike, also meant feeling incredible pain. Separation, loss, betrayal, jealousy—these were equal with love in my mind, making the concept seem ludicrous. Why would anyone want to live such a life?

Comfort. Safety. Peace. Happiness.

I remembered those feelings now, not as abstract ideas in another being's mind, but as realities that had once existed in my own heart. I felt them.

And I knew, finally, that I wanted to feel them again. And again. Forever.

Atop a cliff overlooking the Olympic mountain range, I broke down with tearless sobs for the family and the humanity I had lost, for the love I had known, and for the century of love I had ignored—but most of all for the fear that I might never find it again.

Night passed into day. I heard his mind and smelled his scent before he spoke, but I ignored his approach.

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself yet?" Emmett asked. "I've been instructed to haul your ass back to Forks."

"Tell your wife I'll come back when I'm good and ready," I growled. "She'll just have to enjoy my absence."

"You don't really think Rose sent me, do you?" _Come on, Edward. Alice is far more terrifying when she's angry. And she is VERY angry right now._ I saw her face in his memory. He was right. Alice was pissed.

"What's her malfunction?"

"Well, uh, gee, let's see. How about you disappearing from your patrol last night, a patrol that you asked us to help with? How about the fact that you apparently went super emo and abandoned Bella and Michael? And to top all that off, how about the fact that your cellphone is off, so we couldn't reach you all night without coming out here to fetch you?"

"Are Bella and Michael okay?" I asked, suddenly realizing that I'd forgotten all about Victoria. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, but Michael's being released this morning. We need to regroup and set up a plan for protecting them at the Chief's house without being noticed. Oh, and there is one development."

"What?"

"His father's come back."


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, I know, it takes me forever to update! It will probably continue to be a slow process for the foreseeable future, but I WILL continue this story. So please hang in there with me. **

**My eternal love, gratitude, and enslavement goes to my beta, Jessypt! **

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><p><strong>BPOV<strong>

It had been a mostly sleepless night. I'd curled up on the small sofa in Michael's room and tried to rest, but every time my eyes would close I'd see my little boy in the hands of that monster. I'd feel the utter powerlessness, the indescribable terror, and the murderous rage that had coursed through me in those moments all over again.

I would have killed him myself for what he'd done, if Edward hadn't intervened. I knew deep inside, regardless of his size, strength, or speed, I could have broken that man in half with my bare hands. Never had I felt so incredibly powerful. Never had I felt such intense, burning rage.

_Lonnie James._ Even now his name sparked flames in my chest and made my fists curl. He was dead, and although some part of me knew I shouldn't be, I was glad.

_He hurt my child._

Michael twitched in his sleep from time to time, and when he began whimpering I woke him. He couldn't tell me what he'd been dreaming about or why he'd been crying; the concepts were as foreign to him as hieroglyphics to me. It didn't matter; I knew. All mothers have an innate sense of what's happening with their children. The mother of an autistic child simply has a more finely developed one. We learn early on how to read their eyes. We gauge the level of their emotional turmoil by the severity of their tantrums or the depth of their withdrawal from reality. We feel their love in the way they take our hands when they won't allow anyone else to touch them or in the simple act of giving us a favorite toy, even though that gift comes without explanation or eye contact.

Jacob and I were blessed that Michael was verbal, able to speak in sentences and express concrete needs, thoughts, or questions. We might never discuss philosophy with him, but he could tell us he loved us. He loved to cuddle and be close. I'd met mothers in my support group in Arizona whose children would explode into fits at the slightest touch from another person.

We were truly blessed, despite all his challenges, to have Michael. At least that's how _I_ felt.

I climbed into bed with Michael and held him as I sang him back to sleep. His arms clasped around my neck and tightened for a few moments. My heart swelled, and my voice lifted as I smiled. Never in my life had I experienced anything like the love of my son. There was no greater joy in the infinite universe. His grip loosened as he sank back into slumber, and I prayed silently that the rest of his sleep would be calm.

There was a brief commotion down the hall, a door banging and surprised voices. I extricated myself carefully from Michael and moved to close the door. I'd had enough excitement for one day.

Lying back down on my makeshift bed, I thought of Edward. There was something about him, something I couldn't quite figure out. It nagged at me. I knew my father was bothered by it too, that unexplainable _something,_ but whereas Charlie suspected the worst, I was inclined to give Edward the benefit of the doubt. No matter what, he had saved Michael and me. He had intervened in a situation from which others might have run in fear. His actions, however mysterious and inexplicable, bespoke a good soul. My brain told me to be careful, but my instincts told me to trust him. I was inclined to obey.

His family—how could I ever begin to repay any of them for what they'd done tonight? I was a stranger to them, yet they hadn't hesitated to step in and see us through this. Alice, although overly enthusiastic and a bit on the flaky side, seemed eager to be friends. Her husband, Jasper, had worked nothing less than a miracle on Michael; I made a note to find out where he was studying and write to his advisor. He deserved recognition for a gift like that. Dr. Cullen—Carlisle—was gentle and attentive. He had allowed me to stay close to Michael throughout all the testing and had taken time to explain things and really talk to me. He seemed to have an almost photographic memory as well; he asked questions and remembered details like no doctor I'd ever met.

I understood from Alice that there were other Cullens as well; her big brother, Emmett, and his wife, Rosalie, as well as Dr. Cullen's wife, Esme. I wasn't quite sure how they were all related—Alice talked very fast and sometimes would space out midsentence—but apparently they'd been living here for a few years now. I knew a little about them from town gossip and rumors: they lived in some enormous house deep in the woods; Dr. Cullen and his wife came into town often but the kids rarely made appearances; and they were all beautiful and antisocial and stuck-up (I got that last one from the cashier at Newton's Outfitters, a twit named Jessica who had apparently been spurned by one of the Cullen boys in their high school years). A bit of a recluse myself, I understood the need to maintain some privacy in a place where every family has baby pictures of every other family's kids. The first week we'd lived with Charlie no fewer than 10 kids had knocked on the door wanting to meet Michael and be friends. The first few times I'd tried to get Michael interested and get something going, but it quickly became apparent that he wasn't interested and that his behaviors were making the other kids nervous. I knew it wouldn't be long before word would spread about the "freaky kid" at the Swan house, and sure enough, I overhead some women whispering about it in the pharmacy one day a couple of weeks later when I was picking up Michael's medications. When I confronted them about it and explained his condition, they'd looked at me with pity. After that, I'd stopped letting the neighborhood kids in.

Some people speak with adoration about the close-knit quality of small-town life. I, for one, was missing the anonymity of Phoenix. In a city that big, everyone's a freak, and no one cares anyway. I'd tried to convince Jacob to stay in Arizona, but he'd been adamant about "bringing Michael home to the tribe." His words, exactly. I'd snorted in laughter, because Jacob was about the least traditional Native American on the planet; I'd never once heard him speak of his heritage in the seven years I'd known him. It wasn't until we were here that I discovered Jake had talked to his father about performing some tribal hocus pocus that would supposedly chase the "demons" out of my son. We were having dinner on the reservation when one of the women, Leah, had let that particular nugget slip out. I hadn't set foot on the reservation since; I'd taken Michael and moved in with my father that night. Jake had drifted between La Push and Forks ever since, trying to mend fences on both sides with little success. Three days ago he'd shown up at my father's door and told me he and "the pack" were headed to Vegas. He'd barely acknowledged Michael in the ten minutes he'd been there.

I frowned. I'd finally reached Jacob at his hotel. I wasn't sure he'd understood a word I'd said, and I was relatively sure I'd heard multiple female voices in the background. I'd probably have to try again in a few hours after he'd sobered up enough. I knew things between us were essentially over, but given the night I'd already had, Jake's apparent lack of interest in his own son—regardless of where he was and how much "fun" he was having—was the last straw.

I drifted off to sleep finally around 5 in the morning.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"All of Michael's tests have come back normal, so once we cross the 24-hour mark, you'll be free to take him home." Carlisle had been in and out all day, checking on us. Jasper had been in, as well, whenever they needed to do another scan or test, and I'd continually marveled at how well behaved Michael was around him. Jasper seemed to have some kind of calming influence on everyone around him; even in my state of boredom, sleeplessness, anxiety, and frustration I somehow felt better when he was in the room.

_Perhaps it was a defense mechanism he'd built up in order to live with Alice,_ I thought.

She was a sweetheart, but she had spent most of the day keeping up a continuous stream of chatter that exhausted me. _Where does someone get that kind of energy? I'd love to buy some._ I'd actually breathed a small sigh of relief when she told me she needed to get some air. _She'd probably already used up all the available oxygen in the room._

_Be nice, Bella. She's not that bad. _ I knew it. I was just going a little stir crazy in this tiny room. I knew Michael was feeling it too, although at the moment he was fully absorbed in an iPad Jasper had brought in for him to play with.

"Thank you, Carlisle. I'm grateful for everything you've done." I reached out to shake his hand, surprised at how cold his skin was. No wonder Michael had reacted so strongly to him last night.

Carlisle must have noticed my reaction.

"I'm sorry, Bella, the air conditioning in here plus the constant hand washing does tend to make my hands cold. I should have warned you," he smiled in apology. At that moment, a familiar voice carried down the hallway.

"Where the hell are my wife and son?"

Jacob appeared in the doorway just as I reached it. "Bella? What the hell is going on? Why are you still at the hospital? I thought you'd be home by now!"

"Jake, this is Dr. Cullen. He and his son-in-law, Dr. Whitlock, have been taking care of Michael." I gestured to Carlisle, who stepped forward to offer his hand. Jacob looked at Carlisle, and his face darkened.

"Did you say Cullen?" he snarled at me, ignoring Carlisle. I nodded.

"Yes. Dr. Cullen—Carlisle's son, Edward, was there when Michael and I were attacked. Edward chased them off, and Carlisle and his family have been helping us." I half-smiled at Carlisle in an attempt to quell the sudden tension in the room. I had no idea what Jake's problem was, but the Cullens had been too good to us for Jacob to be rude now. "They've been so good with Michael, Jake, wait 'til you see. Jasper especially, it's like he has a gift with autistic kids—"

"Get your things, Bella, we're taking Michael home now." Jacob's tone was final and angry in a way I'd never heard before. He continued to glare at Carlisle. I glanced back and forth between them. Carlisle's face remained passive, but his eyes were steady on Jacob, as though he were waiting for something. Jake, on the other hand, was practically radiating heat. I stepped between them.

"Jake, we can't leave yet. They want to observe Michael for at least 24 hours. We have two hours to go, then we can be discharged. It won't be much longer."

"We're going now, I said!" he snapped at me.

"Is there a problem here?" Another familiar voice came from behind Jake. We turned to find Edward and Alice there with a large behemoth of a man and an auburn-haired woman.

"No, no problem," Carlisle answered Edward's question. "Everyone, this is Bella's husband, Jacob Black. Mr. Black, this is my wife, Esme, my daughter, Alice, and my sons, Edward and Emmett." He gestured to each of them. "Bella and I were just telling Mr. Black that Michael will be ready for release in about two hours."

I saw Jacob scowl, his body still rigid with anger. _What the hell was going on?_

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Alice squealed, dancing around Jake and up next to me for a hug. "I'm so happy he's okay, Bella."

"Thanks Alice," I murmured, returning the hug quickly, my eyes still on my husband. "I'm happy to see all of you again, but would you mind excusing us for a minute? I'd like to talk to Jacob alone, and I'm sure he wants to _see his son_." I emphasized the last few words as I glared at Jacob. He looked abashed for a fleeting moment before his face went taut again. He continued to glare as the Cullens filed out of the room. Edward was last to go, his eyes wary. I nodded to him in reassurance, and he closed the door behind him.

I turned to my husband. "What the fuck, Jake?" I hissed, keeping my voice low so Michael wouldn't hear. He was so engrossed with the iPad he hadn't even registered that his father was in the room yet. "What is your problem? In case you've forgotten, your son and I have had a pretty rough night. I don't know what your deal is, but the Cullens saved us last night. The least you can do is be polite!"

He snorted derisively. "_Saved you._ Sure they did. Your dad seems to think they were in on it, and I wouldn't put it past them. The Cullens are dangerous, Bella. I don't want you or Michael anywhere near them, you hear me? Now, pack up; we're leaving."

"I'm not going anywhere until Carlisle gives us the okay. And neither is Michael. If you want to stay with us, you're welcome. But if you say one ungrateful thing to any of the Cullens, Jacob Black, I will have security make you leave."

He stepped closer to me. "Nobody's making me go anywhere. You're my wife, Bella. Don't fucking forget that."

This close, he was so tall I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes, but I met them nonetheless. They were dark and angry, and although I felt a tremor of fear, I'd been through enough in the past 24 hours. I stood my ground and prepared to answer him when Michael interrupted.

"Daddy?"

Like a light switch, Jake's expression changed. The anger disappeared, and he turned to Michael with a smile and his arms outstretched. "Mikey! How's my little man?"

Michael jumped from the bed and into Jake's arms, his face beaming. "I'm not a little man, Daddy, I'm a big boy!" It was their routine. The two of them roughhoused carefully for a couple of minutes. I hung back, watching for any sign that Jake wasn't being careful enough or that Michael was becoming too overstimulated. They could both get themselves too wound up, and it usually resulted in Michael having a tantrum and Jake slamming doors in frustration. His bizarre anger and behavior had me even more wary than usual.

"You ready to go to Grandpa Charlie's house, Mikey?" Jake asked as he swung Michael around.

"Go to Grandpa Charlie's house!" Michael answered between fits of giggles. "Go see Grandpa Charlie!"

"Jake," I warned, stepping toward the door. "We're not leaving until we know everything's okay."

Towing Michael by the hand, Jake stomped heavily toward me, his face determined.

"I won't let my son be treated by freaks. Now get out of my way."

"Go see Grandpa Charlie?" Michael asked this time, his voice nervous as his unusual sensitivity registered the tension in the room. He glanced between us.

I reached out and ruffled his hair. "Soon, baby. Why don't you play with Jasper's iPad some more?"

"iPad!" Everything else forgotten, Michael tried to pull free. Jacob held him tight.

"Let go Daddy! iPad!" He pulled and pulled, but to no avail.

"Let him go, Jacob!" I reached out to help Michael, but Jake yanked him away from me and put himself between us. Michael was starting to yell, and I knew it would be only a matter of seconds before all hell would break loose.

"Let goooooooo! Let gooooooo! iPad!" Michael was crying as well as screaming. "Daddy, let me go!"

"Please Jake, just let him go. Don't hurt him." _Don't hurt my baby. Not again. Please, please._ Was I really here again, barely 24 hours later? Watching another man hurt my child? Tears began coursing down my own cheeks. "Please, Jake."

He leaned down to face me. The eyes that looked back at me were strange. Who was this man? Was this really my husband?

"He's my son, and I'm taking him now. You can't fucking stop me Bella, so don't bother trying." He pushed me aside roughly, and I stumbled over a rolling stool and momentarily lost my balance. Michael was still fighting for freedom, dangling and flailing as he was dragged to the door. Jacob flung open the door with his other hand and promptly halted.

"I think it's time you left, Jacob." The voice was familiar but ice cold.

Peering around the door, I saw what had stopped Jake. A wall of Cullens stood in the hall outside our room. In the center of them stood my father. The group was intimidating enough that it even distracted Michael from his tantrum.

"Go, now, before I beat the shit out of you," Charlie growled. I'd never heard him so angry, and his voice matched the looks on the pale faces that surrounded him.

"He's _my_ son." Jake's voice held far less conviction now. Sensing he'd lost, he released Michael's hand. I ran over to Michael and pulled him down into my lap.

"It's okay, baby; it's okay," I whispered, rocking him. "Everything's okay."

He put his arms around my neck. "Daddy hurt me. Daddy bad?"

"Bella—" Jacob started to speak, but I held up my hand to him and glared.

"Leave."

He looked back toward the group at the door—our protectors—and back to us for a moment. Defeated, he pushed through the Cullens and disappeared. I closed my eyes and rocked my son. I could sense and hear movement as everyone filed into the room. A warm, familiar scent of aftershave told me it was Charlie who had squatted down beside us.

"You guys okay, Bells?" he asked quietly. "Are either of you hurt?"

I opened my eyes. "I'm okay, I think," I answered. "I'll have a bruise where I hit that stool, but I'm okay." I took Michael's hand in my own. The skin was red and raw looking from his attempts to pull free. He twitched a little when I touched it.

"Hurts. Daddy hurt."

Carlisle joined Charlie. "May I?" he asked. I nodded and held out the little arm for him to examine. "It seems fine, Bella. Nothing broken. The skin will be a little sore, but there's no serious damage."

"Thank you, again, Carlisle." I looked at him and smiled gratefully. Looking up, I realized all of the Cullens were still in the room, including Emmett and a beautiful blonde who had to be Rosalie. Her expressions varied from irritation to anger, which I couldn't quite understand; it seemed directed at me, but the others peering down at us were concerned. "Thank you, all of you, for being here," I said quietly, still rocking Michael. "I'm so glad to have met you all. And I'm sorry about Jacob's behavior."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Bella dear, " Esme answered. "We're just glad you're both all right."

Charlie stood. "Come on, Bells, let's get you two off this cold floor." He held out his arms for Michael, and I passed him over. I started to get up, and a hand I assumed to be Carlisle's appeared in front of me for support. I was surprised when I realized it belonged to Edward. I was even more surprised by the warmth I felt when our hands met, despite his skin being almost as cold as Carlisle's. I met his eyes and realized for the first time that they were an odd color, like amber. They were disorienting, and it took me a moment to regain my equilibrium even after I'd gotten back on my feet. It took a few more moments for me to realize I was still holding his hand.

"Oh, s-sorry," I stammered.

"Are you certain you're all right, Bella?" Edward asked. His face seemed confused, as though I had said something to puzzle him. Had I said anything? I couldn't remember. Maybe I wasn't entirely okay after all. I chanced another look at his face, and my head swam. _Definitely not okay._

"I'm a little, uh, lightheaded, I guess. Probably just stood up too quickly." Deliberately _not_ looking directly at Edward, I made a show of shaking my head clear. "All better. No worries." I half-smiled at them in reassurance.

"Well in that case, I have a complaint to make." Emmett's voice was deep and booming, a fitting sound for the giant that he was. "You mentioned meeting all of us, but technically you haven't. Carlisle introduced us to your husband, but not to you. So for the record, I'm Emmett, and this is my wife, Rosalie." He smiled wide as he reached out an enormous paw of a hand for me to shake. I took it tentatively and laughed a little.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." I reached out my hand. Rosalie offered a brief handshake, but when I turned to Emmett I found myself swept up into two massive branches.

"I don't shake hands with pretty ladies, Bella. I hug!"

I started to laugh, but my airway was constricted by the bone-crunching squeeze of his arms. Instead I gasped.

"Ooops. Sorry." Emmett's face was apologetic as he set me back on the ground. "Guess I don't know my own strength."

"You know what they say about steroids, Emmett," Alice chided jokingly. At least, I assumed it was a joke, but then again, Emmett did seem somewhat _unnaturally_ constructed. The rest of the family chuckled.

"Yeah, better be careful; you shrink your 'nads and Rose will not be pleased," Jasper joked from a far corner of the room, where he was leaning against a support pillar.

"Hey, I'm all natural 100% grade A manhood!" Emmett answered. "And my _'nads,_ dear brother, are in perfect working order. Just ask your sister!"

Jasper cringed, but I was suddenly confused. "Wait—if Jasper's your brother and Rosalie's his sister…uh, how exactly does that work with you and Rose?"

All of the Cullens laughed. Alice flittered over and patted me on the shoulder.

"You're adorable, Bella. I'm so glad we're gonna be friends!"

Charlie spoke up. "I have to admit, I'm a bit confused myself. Forgive us, we're fairly new around here."

"It's fine, Chief," Edward spoke. I felt my face heat at the sound of his voice—_really? His voice? Am I turning into a girl? God forbid_—so I stared at Alice rather than meet his eyes again. She gave me the impression of a doctor examining a patient, and suddenly I was self-conscious. What was it about these Cullens that made me so flustered? Then I realized Edward was still talking, and my brain went fuzzy again. _Maybe I just need sleep._

Alice smirked. I saw it out of the corner of my eye.

"So Rose and Jasper are the only ones actually related by blood," Edward was saying.

"Well, that's pretty admirable, Carlisle, Esme," Charlie answered, nodding respectfully to both of them. "Taking on so many teenagers when you're both so young yourselves."

"Well, we both love children, and although we didn't expect to have such a large family, we are blessed to have them all in our lives," Esme replied, smiling at her family. She turned to me.

"You're clearly blessed as well, Bella. Michael seems like a truly amazing child. And so handsome!"

"Thank you, Esme," I answered, looking at my son in Charlie's arms. "I'll be happy to get him home, safe and sound in his own bed."

"Well it won't be long now, Bella," Carlisle assured me. "In fact, I'll start the discharge paperwork now, so you'll be all processed out when the time comes." He turned to the others. "Come on, Cullens. Let's give Bella and her family some time alone."

The family filed back out of the room, and once again Edward was last to leave. He lingered at the door, still looking puzzled. I walked over to him.

"Are you okay, Edward?"

He stared at me intently for a moment without answering, his brow furrowed.

"Edward?" _Why is he staring at me?_

Suddenly he snapped out of it.

"Oh, uh, sorry Bella, I was just—" He floundered for a minute.

"Just what? Are you okay?" _Maybe he needs to see a doctor after all. Perhaps I should call Carlisle back._

"That's not nec—I mean, I'm fine. I guess I'm just distracted. I'm sorry." He twitched oddly, glancing down the hall and back again. "I, uh, I have to go. Take care of yourself, Bella."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me startled and confused in the doorway.

_Was it something I said? _


	4. Chapter 4

**I know it's been forever since my last update. I can only beg forgiveness and explain that my real life has been crazy lately, involving working 40+ hours a week at one job, 5-10 hours a week at my other job, and moving not once, not twice, but three times in the past two months. I'll keep going with this story, though, I promise. There's an outline and a plan. It just might take a while to get there. Bear with me. **

**Thank you for reading!**

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><p>"A werewolf?" Rosalie was pacing the living room floor in an unnecessary human show of frustration. "Don't we have enough to deal with on our own? Now, we're not only hunting for some mystery stalker vampire, interfering in crimes, and making friends with humans, but we're going up against werewolves?"<p>

"Rosalie, we can all hear you. Please lower your voice." Esme's mom voice was as terrifying as, well, us. _What?_ _It's hard to make an adequate comparison when you're at the top of the food chain._

"Technically they're not werewolves," Carlisle explained. "The Quileutes are shape shifters. They change when danger is near, specifically vampires. Their changes aren't tied to the phases of the moon like traditional werewolves."

"Even more reason for us to stay out of it," Rose replied. "This Jacob clearly doesn't want us around his family, and the kid is half Quileute, too, so it's their problem not ours. You told us the wolves were gone, Carlisle, but clearly they aren't. Or they've come back. Either way, it's clear that Bella and Michael have their own protectors now. We can back off and focus on Victoria."

"We can't be sure the wolves have returned. Maybe it was just a glitch." Alice had been punishing herself mentally for not seeing Jacob's semi-assault on Bella. She couldn't explain the lapse in her vision, and it frustrated her. It had been Emmett who'd connected it with the arrival and departure of Jacob Black. He and Jasper had stayed behind at the hospital to follow Bella and Michael home, while the rest of us had come here to discuss this latest development.

Carlisle's thoughts were mixed between concern and scientific fascination. "He's a Quileute and a direct descendant of Ephraim Black. He's clearly experiencing an unusually high level of aggression, and his body temperature was skyrocketing. Our presence clearly triggered a strong reaction that can only be explained by a natural instinct to attack."

"None of that means he's a wolf," Rose argued. "Maybe he's just an aggressive asshole with a fever."

"Bella was surprised by his aggressiveness, which means it's not his normal behavior." It had been the panic in Bella's thoughts that had alerted me to the trouble in the hospital room. I'd been trying to give them some privacy, tuning out their conversation, so they could reunite without an audience. As soon as Alice realized she couldn't see Bella anymore, I'd started listening again, but by then it was too late.

_Perhaps you stopped listening because you didn't want to see Bella getting affectionate with her husband, hmm?_ Alice thought in my direction. _A little jealous, are we?_

_If you'd seen what was coming, I'd never have stopped listening._

_Fuck you, Edward. If you weren't having so much trouble tuning Bella in, maybe we'd have gotten there sooner. _

_She's not a radio station, Ali._

Still, she was right. Bella's mind was becoming something of a puzzle to me. At times I could hear her thoughts perfectly clearly, but at others it was as though someone were turning down the volume. Sometimes I lost her mental voice completely. I had never experienced anything like it before, and it worried me. Her thoughts in the hospital room after Jacob left had been silent. Yet just as we began to leave I could hear her again.. The shift had been so unexpected I'd nearly slipped and answered her thoughts as though she'd spoken them aloud.

"Is it possible he's just now becoming a wolf?" Esme asked. "Perhaps this is all new to him. A threat to his family—a vampiric one at that, although he probably doesn't know that yet—combined with our sudden presence in their lives, might have triggered the wolf gene or whatever it is that sets off this process."

"That's certainly plausible," Carlisle answered. "In which case, he's volatile and capable of doing great harm to others. We must hope that someone on the reservation is able to help him get control before he kills someone, accidentally or otherwise."

"In that case, we absolutely must continue protecting Bella and Michael." Everyone's eyes looked to me, and their thoughts were as mixed as their expressions. Except Rosalie, of course, who was simply irritated by the sound of my voice, as usual. Alice let her thoughts run along her matchmaking course. Carlisle and Esme worried about everyone's safety.

I turned to my father. "Carlisle, is there anyone on the reservation we can make contact with? Let them know exactly what's happening, on all sides?"

"Everyone we met with when we formed the treaty is dead by now." He frowned as his mind searched for an answer. "Dr. Gerandy at the hospital is married to one of the Ateara Quileutes. Perhaps she might be willing to carry a message, if I can speak with her privately."

"She will," Alice interjected, her eyes on the vision in her mind. "She won't like it, but she'll agree to ask for a meeting between the elders and us. She's at the hospital now, Carlisle; you can find her alone in the cafeteria in about 20 minutes."

_Interesting, I can see other Quileutes. Must be the wolf thing._ Her eyes flickered to me. _Be careful, Edward. All teasing aside, you could be in serious danger if you let yourself get tangled up in Bella's life._

_No tangling. Check. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carlisle called an hour later. It had taken some persuasion, but Dr. Gerandy had agreed to ask for a meeting, as Alice had foreseen. I was up a tree when the word came; I had found myself a perch near Bella's home that gave me a good view of the grounds and the house. Emmett and Jasper were patrolling the town in search of any trace of Victoria.

"_Where's Daddy?"_ The small voice inside the house caught my attention. Michael's mind, as always, was following a dozen different trains of thought, but images of his father were the most prominent at the moment.

"_Daddy's at Grandpa Billy's house, baby, remember?"_ Through Michael's eyes I watched Bella making dinner. As always, his view of her was soft and affectionate, although he didn't quite comprehend his own feelings. I was starting to feel the same way about Bella myself; she seemed an extraordinary woman, but she was human, and the emotions she triggered in me left me frequently bewildered. I knew Alice's thoughts on the subject, but I was more inclined to believe that my reactions were a side effect of seeing her through the rose-colored eyes of others. I hadn't spent enough time in her company or in her mind to really know her for myself.

"_Daddy at Grandpa Billy's,"_ Michael repeated. An image of an elderly Quileute fluttered through his mind but was quickly dismissed. His curiosity about his father satisfied, he turned his attention back to the laptop in front of him and the _Sesame Street_ videos he was watching on YouTube. Bella and everything else in the room around him faded into the background.

In the other room, Charlie watched a baseball game as his mind churned over Lonnie James and Jacob Black.

_She should have stayed in Phoenix,_ he grumbled mentally. _And here I was always worried she'd get herself into trouble down there in the big city. Now look what's happened._

I tuned out the Chief's self-flagellation and focused on the only mind left to hear: Bella's. Her thoughts were clear to me for the moment as she also replayed the events of the past day.

_I could have killed him myself. If he'd hurt Michael—if either of them had hurt him, I would have done it. _

I was surprised at the intensity and truth in her thoughts.

_Why is Jacob acting like this? Could he be on drugs? Steroids, maybe? He does seem to be a bit more…built, lately. _

My brain was suddenly assaulted by a memory of Jacob Black naked. I nearly retched up the deer I'd eaten on my way here. Desperate to block out any memories of Bella and Jacob's marital relations, I began reciting _The Odyssey_ in the original Greek and turned my eyes and mind to the outside of the house. I heard Esme mentally redecorating the Swan house as she patrolled the woods to the east. Rose was on the west side, swearing and bitching about me, Bella, werewolves, humans, and her existence in general. How I longed to put her out of her misery sometimes. If only Emmett would let me rip her head off. It wasn't like we couldn't put her back together again after a few…decades.

My phone vibrated with an E-mail from Alice. The meeting with the Quileute elders was set for midnight in the no-man's-land between our territories. Carlisle wanted me there to keep tabs on the thoughts of the others and to explain what I'd seen already. Emmett would stand guard in the meantime.

I was pocketing my phone when the sound of my name drew my attention back to the house.

_Edward. Such a formal name,_ Bella was thinking now. _The Cullens all seem to call him by his full name, too. Carlisle, Emmett, Jasper: it's interesting that they all have such old-fashioned names. If they were all related by blood I'd just think it was a family tradition. Not that Isabella is the most modern name, either. _

_I'm being silly. It's just—there's something about him._ I saw myself in her recollection. I leaned forward, curious to know what she thought of me. _He seems so good, but quiet. Shy, maybe? I don't know. I just know when he's around I…_

Silence.

You whaaaaat? I wanted to yell. Bella's thoughts had faded out on me again, but I could hear her heart beating faster. Did I scare her, then? Was she afraid when I was around? She hadn't seemed afraid of me since that first moment we met, but maybe she was just good at hiding it. I watched her expressions through Charlie's mind, but I couldn't make heads or tails of them. One moment she frowned, and the next she seemed peaceful, almost smiling. She even reddened slightly, which had Charlie worrying about her health and the after effects of so much trauma. I kept listening to them as they finished their meal. Bella took Michael up for his bath, but her thoughts came and went; nothing I was able to hear gave me any further insight. She was intent on her son as she cleaned him up and helped him dress. She worried for his mental and physical safety and wondered what Jacob might try next.

When Michael climbed into bed she lay down beside him and began to sing the same quiet lullaby she'd been singing in the hospital. Michael wrapped his small arms around her neck and buried his head in her shoulder as she sang, his usually hyperactive mind quieted at last. I listened to them both, feeling the love between them. I closed my eyes and let Bella's voice call forth my own memories once again, and this time I welcomed them. My mother's scent, the feel of her hair against my cheek, and the warmth of her arms as she held me and sang me to sleep washed over me. Again it was as though my heart had resumed beating; my chest felt tight and my eyes longed to shed tears they were no longer capable of producing.

"_Good night, my beautiful boy,"_ Bella whispered.

"_Good night, Mommy,"_ he mumbled back, already half asleep. He rolled onto his side, and Bella slid quietly out of the room.

_Alone at last,_ she thought with relief, hearing the sounds of Charlie snoring in his chair downstairs. She wandered through the house, checking doors and looking windows. I was momentarily distracted from her thoughts by my cellphone vibrating.

_You'll love me for this,_ Alice wrote. _Eventually._

Love her for what? Alice's cryptic messages were sometimes more annoying than helpful. She loved to make us guess rather than tell us things outright. She'd say it made us more like humans, not knowing everything that's to come. I didn't bother to answer her text. I was sure its meaning would become clear soon enough. I returned to Bella and found her—

standing naked in front of her bathroom mirror.

_ALICE!_ I thought, my fury rising as I tried to block out the image in my head. Although I had admittedly used my gift for a bit of adolescent voyeurism in my newborn days, it had been more than three-quarters of a century since I'd disrespected a woman, _a lady,_ so blatantly. I tried desperately to think of something, anything that would erase Bella's body from my memory, but I could call up nothing that was strong enough. Instead, I was horrified to find that my mind had already cataloged her form, noting scars, freckles, and the fact that she was hairless _down there_. Suddenly, I was even more horrified to find my own body reacting to these thoughts. The harder I tried to ignore Bella's body, the more I found myself wanting to look in on her again. The harder I tried to ignore my own reactions…well, you get the picture.

_Edward, are you all right?_

Esme was watching me with concern from the edge of the woods.

_You look almost ill. Have you eaten anything? _

"I'm fine, Esme," I answered in a whisper. "I just need to run a little. Stretch my legs, so to speak. Can you stay close to the house for a while? I want to widen the perimeter, make sure there aren't any signs of Victoria anywhere near the house before I leave for the meeting."

_Of course, Rose and I will be here, Edward, and Emmett's on his way. Don't worry about a thing. Everything will be fine. _

"Thanks, Mom," I smiled, knowing she could see. I leapt from my perch and hit the ground running, happy to put some distance between me and the beautiful naked woman now soaking in the bathtub, her skin reddening in the heat…

Run. Run. Run.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The space between our territory and the Quileute reservation wasn't exactly defined, but each side knew well enough where the boundary was supposed to be. In the earlier days when the wolves were still common, it was easy to find the line based on where the scents changed from ours to theirs. With those traces long since lost, both sides simply approached each other slowly and carefully, wary of sudden movements or implied threats. That the humans had come at all to this remote location, unprotected, was a significant gesture of trust, and we did what we could to honor it. Carlisle, the most recognizable of our coven, stepped forward, while Alice, Jasper, and I stayed back in the woods, visible to the Quileutes but far enough to make them feel comfortable. I was still furious with Alice for her little stunt. Jasper was working overtime keeping my anger in check, so we could focus on the meeting.

_Chill out, brother,_ he cautioned. _I've got my hands full keeping things calm here, I can't have you ripping my wife's head off._

I nodded stiffly and ignored Alice, who was alternating between begging my forgiveness and teasing me about Bella, changing her tactics in response to whatever reaction she foresaw me having.

"Leave him alone, Ali," Jasper whispered. "You're not helping."

She pouted. "Fine." I rolled my eyes as she stuck her tongue out at me.

Quil Ateara, the oldest of the tribal leaders, stepped toward Carlisle. I noted the absence of Billy Black, Jacob's father and the chief by bloodline. I knew he'd been wheelchair bound by his diabetes for some time; it would have been virtually impossible for him to attend. The other elder I did not recognize by sight, but Carlisle knew him as Harry Clearwater. They were focused on us, gauging our intentions. Several younger Quileutes hid in the woods; I could hear their minds and see them among the trees. They were fearful and unsure in their thoughts. They'd been told only to hang back in the woods with their all-terrain vehicles and to warn the tribe if we attacked. Although they'd been told the stories and legends about us—the "cold ones," as they called us—they had never believed them until now.

"Why have you called this meeting?" Quil Ateara's voice was strong given his age. He might have been a child or even an infant when we last spoke with the tribe.

"We have several mutual concerns," Carlisle answered. "I thank you for coming on such short notice, but time is of the essence."

"Go on."

"Before I begin, let me say that it is not our intention to interfere in tribal affairs. We simply want to be sure that both sides are aware of recent events and potential dangers. How you handle things from here is, of course, up to you."

Ateara nodded. "You speak of dangers. I assume you mean danger to us and from your kind."

"Yes," Carlisle answered. "But we are also concerned about the potential for danger to us or to certain humans in Forks, as well. Specifically, Charlie Swan and Bella and Michael Black."

The humans exchanged looks.

"Danger to you? From whom?"

"I'm sure you're aware that Bella and Michael were involved in an attempted kidnapping the other night. Michael was injured and hospitalized under my care. I know how your tribe views us, so when Jacob came to visit his family, I expected that he would be unhappy with the fact that my family was involved. However, we are concerned because he was abnormally aggressive during his visit, to the point that he caused harm both to Bella and to Michael. _Minor_ harm," Carlisle emphasized. "I do not know Jacob personally and make no judgments about him, but his behavior seemed out of the ordinary to Bella. He was also radiating a significant amount of heat, more than might be explained by a fever or other _human_ illness."

"What are you asking, Carlisle?" The other elder demanded. _This is none of your business, bloodsucker._ In Harry's thoughts I saw Billy and Jacob Black. They had already discussed Jacob's changing behavior amongst themselves.

"I ask nothing, Harry," Carlisle answered. "However, I suspect that Jacob may now be or is in the process of phasing into a wolf, which is of course a development unseen in these parts for many decades." He held up his hand to stop Harry's response. "I do not need you to either confirm or deny this suspicion. We intend to keep to the treaty, and we trust that your people will do the same. It is none of our affair what goes on in the tribe, but we do have information that your tribe and the people of Forks are in danger. It might also explain any changes among your young men."

"And this is related to what happened to Bella and Michael, as well?" Quil asked.

"Bella and Michael were carjacked by a man named Lonnie James who was sent to kidnap them. This will sound incredible, I know, but we now know that James was acting at the behest of a vampire, a female vampire unknown to any of us. Her intentions, why she wanted Bella and Michael, and what she will do next are all questions that remain unanswered. However, she is not like us. She will likely feed from humans. If she is even aware of our treaty it is highly unlikely she will abide by it. Thus we are coming to you both to warn you of the danger she presents and to reassure you that our coven has not and will not breach the oath given to Ephraim Black."

"Let me understand you," Harry replied. "You're saying that there is a new vampire in town, recruiting _humans_ to do her bidding?" _What a crock of shit. _

"We can't know what tactic she will use next. Michael, it seems, is her intended target, which I know will be of great concern to your people, as he is Jacob's son. She apparently seduced this Lonnie James into action by promising him Bella as a reward."

Their eyes narrowed at this news, and their thoughts were both bewildered and furious.

"How do you know all of this?" Harry demanded. "For someone you claim is unknown to you, you certainly seem well-informed about her."

"We were able to interrogate James before he died in the hospital," Carlisle lied. "We know that the woman's name is Victoria and that she has long, red hair. She also wears blue contact lenses to hide her red eyes, which makes them appear violet in color. We know she was driving a high-end sports car, but she may have changed vehicles. We have not been able to track her scent beyond the clearing where Lonnie James was found beaten, so we assume she drove rather than running from that location."

Carlisle paused. "I hope that we can work together to protect Bella, Michael, your people, and the people of Forks. Members of our coven are patrolling the town and the Swan house and will continue to do so in an effort to thwart Victoria as quickly as possible. We know that this will be upsetting to some members of your tribe, so we wanted to make you aware of our plans."

"Michael and Bella are members of our family. It is our duty and right to protect them ourselves," Harry answered.

"I understand your feelings, but I also know that your tribe's protectors are few, if any exist at all. Our coven is fast enough and strong enough to stop Victoria if we are able to locate her on our side of the boundary. Whatever protections you have, you may wish to keep them close to your people, but as I said, that is your business. The Swan house falls within our territory, and we will protect it to the best of our ability. You have my word on that."

"Your word has been good with us for nearly a century, Carlisle," Quil answered. "We will consider the information you have given us and your proposal to work together and will send word through Kimberly Gerandy if we need to speak with you again."

"Thank you both." Carlisle nodded to them. "I am grateful for the trust you have shown us by coming here tonight, and I hope that we will be able to resolve this matter quickly. I wish you a safe journey home and a pleasant night's sleep."

Carlisle waited while the Quileutes retreated, Harry assisting Quil over the uneven terrain. After several minutes we heard the growling motors of several ATVs. Carlisle joined the rest of us.

"Alice?"

"They'll discuss what we've told them, but I can't see beyond the morning. If Emmett's right, and the wolves affect my vision, then I assume my lack of insight means the Blacks will be part of whatever meeting they're having."

He turned to me. "Edward?"

"Nothing unexpected. Harry was a bit more anti-vampire than Quil, who was more inclined to listen to what you had to say. There were no conscious thoughts of interfering with our plans, but they were already aware of Jacob's behavior and are watching him carefully. They were surprised we came to them, but they were far more angered and disturbed by the information about Victoria. The others in the woods were more afraid of us and curious than hostile."

"Jasper?"

"I agree with Edward. Fear, concern, curiosity, some hate and disgust, but nothing unexpected. They were concerned for the people they love. There was some gratitude on Quil's part, and some animosity on Harry's, but nothing violent or extraordinarily angry, at least not toward us."

Carlisle nodded, his face thoughtful.

"Well, let's hope that whatever their issues with us, they'll take precautions. For both problems."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_You shouldn't have done that, Ali._

We were running back toward Bella's house to check in with the others. Carlisle and Jasper were headed home. Carlisle had a shift at the hospital, and Jasper was planning to do some research to try to track Victoria's movements prior to her arrival in Forks. It was a long shot, but he planned to trace unsolved disappearances and murders outside the area. He was also planning to call the Denali coven in the hope of convincing our friend Eleazar to visit. We were hoping Eleazar's ability to see the latent gifts in vampires and humans would give us some insight into why Victoria wanted Michael.

_You needed a push,_ Alice answered. _You're all caught up in your human memories, and I get that. It's powerful, but there are other feelings you need to explore too, Edward. And I see good things from Bella. She's strong, beautiful, smart…_

_And human, married, and a mother. It was disrespectful to invade her privacy like that! What if she found out?_

_How would she ever find out, Edward? Are you planning to tell her? That would be some conversation: Uh, yeah, Bella, we're vampires, and I can read minds, and, uh, I might have accidentally seen you naked once. _

_It was wrong, Alice, and this fantasy you have about me and Bella is wrong, too. She has a life and a child of her own. I couldn't take those from her even if I wanted to. Besides, you've seen nothing more than friendship between Bella and us. If there were even a chance of something more, don't you think you'd have had a sign of it by now?_

She pouted. _Maybe._

_You know I'm right. So drop it, ok? _

_But—_

Whatever she was about to think was interrupted by our phones ringing with text messages. Her eyes became unfocused as she saw what we were about to learn.

Eleazar was dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know, I know, it's been too long. I hope you're all still with me.**

* * *

><p>Carmen and Eleazar, our "cousins" from the Denali coven, had been on Isle Esme for an extended holiday. Carlisle and Esme had volunteered the house on the island so that the couple could celebrate their 300th anniversary. It had been months since we'd heard from them, but none of us had thought anything of it. I'd never been there myself, having never had any reason to go, but my family had told me many times how easy it was to lose track of time with no schedules or pretenses to keep up. The only problem with life on the island, however, was the limited supply of game for hunting. Rather than risk depopulating the island of wildlife, it was necessary now and then to swim or take the boat back to the mainland to hunt.<p>

"They'd decided to stay in Rio for the night," Jasper explained. "They split up when Carmen wanted to do some shopping, and Eleazar opted to visit one of the historical sites. She was supposed to meet him at the hotel, but he didn't show up. She went searching for him but could only find traces of his scent mixed with those of an unfamiliar vampire. She followed the trail into a dense forest outside the city, and that's where she found him."

"He was dead?" Alice asked. "How is that possible?"

Jasper shook his head. "She thought at first that she must be seeing things. He was in the arms of a strange female vampire, and they were so close she thought they were kissing. Then she realized the female was _drinking_ from him."

"Drinking?" Rose's face was contorted with the same confusion we were all feeling. "Drinking what? His venom?"

"Apparently. Whatever she did to him, it killed him. Carmen tried to save him, but the vampire was stronger and faster and was able to escape. When Carmen returned to Eleazar's body, she tried to revive him with her own venom, with CPR, with anything she could think of, but she couldn't. "

"What else did Tanya say?" Esme asked. "Is Carmen okay?"

"Tanya said when they didn't hear from either of them for several weeks, they became concerned. She and Kate flew down and found the boat still docked at the marina, so they stayed in Rio to search. They discovered that the hotel bill had been left unpaid; the concierge said the room had been booked for a single night nearly two months earlier. Kate and Tanya split up and scoured the surrounding area, and it was there they found Carmen."

"Alive?"

Jasper nodded. "Yes, but starved and weak. They found her holding Eleazar. Tanya said it was as though he had fallen asleep, like a human. He looked exactly the same. Carmen was nearly catatonic; Kate actually shocked them both with her gift in a desperate attempt to bring them around. It worked for Carmen but not for Eleazar. Carmen was able to tell them what happened, but she hasn't spoken since. They burned Eleazar's body and brought Carmen home just a few days ago. Now, she won't leave her room and refuses to hunt or to eat."

"But I still don't understand," I said. "What happened to Eleazar? How could he have been killed without being torn apart and burned? And what was the vampire drinking from him?"

"I honestly have no idea," Carlisle answered. "It doesn't make any sense. After Jasper hung up with Tanya, I called Italy to speak with Aro. He seemed puzzled as well but promised to look into the archives to see if anything like this has happened before."

_There's more, Edward._ Jasper replayed the conversation with Tanya in his memory, and Alice and I both stopped breathing.

The vampire who had killed Eleazar was a redhead.

Victoria.

"What the fuck?" My exclamation startled everyone but Alice, who was swearing with a few choice epithets of her own.

"What is it?" Carlisle asked, watching us both.

"Victoria killed Eleazar," I answered. "Carmen described her to Tanya. It matches Lonnie James's memory and the tiny glimpse I got from Michael. It was her." I turned to Carlisle. "This can't be a coincidence."

"But what does it mean?" Carlisle began pacing the room. "It can't be a planned attack against us, because Michael saw Victoria before we met him." He crossed to the couch and back to the piano as we watched, all of our minds churning with possibilities. "We've assumed that she used James as a decoy to avoid attracting our attention. But then, how did she know of us at all? And how does that fit in with Eleazar? Or Michael, for that matter?"

"She may have found out about us from Eleazar," Rosalie suggested. "Perhaps she tortured him somehow?" _Perhaps she could read his thoughts, like Edward or Aro?_

"That's a possibility," I said, responding to her thought. "Rose suggested that maybe she has a mind reading gift. It would explain her knowledge of us, at least."

"But it doesn't answer the main question," Rose replied. "What does any of this have to do with the humans?"

"We're about to find out," Alice said, her eyes unfocused. "Carlisle, Aro's calling. He's found something."

Carlisle's phone began to ring. He turned on the speaker.

"Aro," Carlisle answered.

"Ah, Carlisle." Aro's patronizing voice never failed to grate on my nerves. "I suppose Alice has anticipated my call, has she? Are you there, Alice dear?"

"Yes, Aro," she answered coolly. Neither of us was particularly fond of the Volturi leader; he had made it clear on more than one occasion that he wanted us for his coven, and we feared that eventually he would use the gifts of those around him to force us into duty. Thus far his friendship with Carlisle had kept him from making any moves in that direction, but we were nonetheless cautious.

"Everyone is listening except Emmett, who is out hunting." Emmett was actually patrolling the Swan house, but Carlisle's lie would go undetected without actual physical contact. "Please tell us what you've found."

Aro sighed in exaggerated concern. "It is very serious, Carlisle, if our suspicions are correct. It sounds as though this vampire of yours may be a rare species known as a _Fur Virtutis_—literally a 'thief of power'—in this case, vampire powers. You may have a gift stealer on your hands, old friend. They can sense a vampire with gifts and absorb those gifts by draining the vampire of venom in such a way that it actually kills the vampire."

"How does it kill?"

"This I do not know. We have only one _Fur Virtutis_ on record, and that was more than two millennia ago. I'd forgotten about him until now. We were unable to study him at the time; he had collected too many gifts and regrettably had to be destroyed in order to protect our coven. If your vampire is indeed one of these rare breeds, she would be a valuable object of study."

"Thank you, Aro." Carlisle answered. "She was last seen by Carmen in South America; perhaps if you wish to search for her you might have your trackers begin there."

"Perhaps I will. I grieve for the loss of our dear Eleazar; please give Carmen my deepest sympathies."

"I will. Thank you." Carlisle moved to disconnect but stopped as Aro spoke again.

"Oh, and Carlisle…if you or any of your coven should happen to cross paths with the _Fur Virtutis,_ please be careful. If she has amassed other great powers like Eleazar's, she will be a formidable enemy, if not invincible. I will send you some additional help in procuring her, if necessary. It would be such a loss if she were destroyed before we could gain every bit of useful knowledge from her."

"We will use caution, Aro. Thank you for your call, old friend." Carlisle disconnected, and the room fell silent—except for the maelstrom of thoughts, of course. Jasper and I traded a look as we tried to deal with the onslaught. Carlisle considered the scientific questions of venom drinking and transferring gifts. Rose was concerned for Emmett. Esme worried for Bella and Michael. Alice spun through a thousand different visions, looking for anything that would clue her in to what was coming next. Everyone was mourning the loss of Eleazar. Jasper began plotting defenses for the Swans, as well as our family.

I focused instead on Victoria and the puzzle of her connection to Michael. If she was truly a _Fur Virtutis,_ then she could have any number of gifts. She would be a dangerous enemy even for a coven as large as ours. We had to assume, at least that she had taken Eleazar's gift. She had to have some kind of offensive power as well; she could not have simply overtaken a vampire like Eleazar on her own.

There was still a big piece missing. How and why did she choose Michael? Of all the children in the world, why would she choose a half-Quileute autistic boy from Forks, Washington? Why risk exposure in a town already filled with vampires?

_There's your problem,_ Alice interrupted suddenly. _We're assuming she saw him in Forks. But he's been here only what, a few weeks? What if this has nothing to do with Forks and the Quileutes, but with Michael himself?_

I considered that for a moment.

_If he saw her before he came to Forks, then it had to be in Arizona. And if that's the case, then she was already back from Brazil by then, with Eleazar's gift,_ I answered. We were staring at each other now. I could feel the others watching us, but they knew better than to interrupt. Even their thoughts had gone quiet as they waited.

_Arizona's part of the southern territory. She might have been there trying to build a coven or perhaps steal gifts from some of the more powerful covens. Jasper would know more about who might be a target for her there. With Eleazar's gift, she'd be able to choose her victims based on what they could give her; there'd be no need for her to watch and wait to see who might have a gift or not. _

It hit us both simultaneously.

Eleazar could also see latent gifts in humans.

"That has to be it," I said aloud. "That's the only reason that makes sense."

"Are you going to let the rest of us in on your little epiphany now?" Rose demanded. "Before this venom-sucking bitch decides to eat one of us?"

"Be quiet, Rose." Carlisle ordered. "Edward?"

"We need to do some research, but we think perhaps Victoria wants Michael because he has some latent gift that Eleazar's power has allowed her to see. The only way for her to get to that power, whatever it is, would be to change him and then kill him. She probably came across him while he was still in Arizona, perhaps because she herself was there seeking powers from some of the southern covens. She may even have plotted to take him then but was thwarted when he moved here with Bella."

Alice chimed in. "She probably followed him here, which tells us that his gift must be pretty powerful, or rare, or both, or she would have just waited for another opportunity to come along. She came to Forks, only to discover our coven here, and had to change tactics. With Eleazar's gift, she most likely knows that Jasper, Alice, and I have gifts and what they are."

"But all of you are protected by our family," Carlisle interjected. "As are Bella and Michael. That would explain why she hasn't tried anything else yet."

Jasper agreed. "More than likely she's assessing our moves and our patrols of the Swan house."

"So, we're all at risk, then," Esme said quietly. "Rose, go find Emmett. He needs to know what we're up against." Her words were slower than Rosalie, who had already vanished. She turned to me. "Edward, you need to talk to Bella. She deserves to know the truth about what's going on."

I stared at her, dumbfounded, as did the others.

"You're kidding, right? Tell her the truth?"

"I agree, Esme," said Carlisle. "Telling Bella raises more issues and dangers than it resolves. She'd be at risk from Aro and the Volturi on top of everything else, if she even believed us. We have to maintain secrecy."

"But she's a mother, Carlisle! Her child is at risk. She has a right to protect him! You can't know the pain of losing a child. I know. I won't stand by and let her lose her son!"

"None of us will, love." Carlisle reached out for Esme and put his arms around her. "We will all protect Bella and Michael. I promise."

Our eyes met over Esme's head, and although he could not hear my thoughts, I knew he understood.

_Beware of making promises you can't keep._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

We continued to patrol the town and the area around Bella's house for the next few days. By mutual unspoken consent, we avoided direct contact with the Swans. Although Alice still teased me now and then about Bella, she begrudgingly accepted that we needed to be alert for danger rather than making friends. We patrolled with at least four of us at a time. When Carlisle had to go to work at the hospital, two of us went with him there as well for protection. Emmett scoffed at the idea that he needed protecting from anyone, but Rosalie refused to leave his side.

When they weren't patrolling, Alice and Jasper were also doing research. According to police reports and news articles online, there were enough disappearances and murders among the humans to indicate a vampire had been active in and around Phoenix just prior to Bella's move to Forks; however, there were no witnesses or specific indicators to confirm that Victoria had been that vampire. Jasper also reached out to a few acquaintances from his time in that area, looking for similar disappearances or attacks among vampires, but he came up empty there, as well.

"We could fly down there," Emmett suggested one night. "Her scent would probably linger around her human victims, right?"

"After washing, autopsy, embalming, and burial? It's unlikely," Carlisle answered. "And any traces of her in the city would be long gone."

"Why is she waiting?" Rose asked. "I mean, if she really is as powerful as you're all _assuming_ she is, why not just make another move already?"

"She didn't take him immediately upon seeing him in Arizona, and she missed her chance. But she followed him here and waited weeks before attempting anything. We have to assume she's careful enough to wait and see how we react, what sorts of protections we put in place, and figure out where we're weakest," Jasper answered. "Her kidnapping plan went awry, but that was only because of bad timing. If Edward had not been there at that moment, or if he had listened to Alice and not interfered, she would have succeeded."

Even Rose shuddered mentally at that idea. Several days of watching Bella and Michael, even from a distance, had drawn us all closer to their little family. Rose would never have admitted it, but she was fast becoming attached to Michael in spite of herself. Although none of them could hear his mind the way I could, we could all see and hear him as he wandered through the house, talking to himself, giggling hysterically at something on the computer, reenacting word-for-word the movies he watched, and especially his interactions with Bella. At Chief Swan's urging, Bella was staying close to the house; her own thoughts, like Charlie's, were of protecting Michael from any further harm as well as avoiding Jacob as much as possible. We were grateful for the precaution; it certainly made it easier for us to protect them. However, the Chief still had to go to work, which left Bella on her own with Michael for long days, sometimes overnight. On those nights the entire coven patrolled, and we became intimately familiar with their daily lives as a result. We had also become far more familiar with his autism, and what that meant for Bella. Michael was a sweet, loving, funny kid, and wildly intelligent for his age, but sometimes his temper would spiral out of control. On more than one occasion already I had had to resist the urge to rush in and help when his tantrums turned aggressive, almost violent, toward Bella.

Michael avoided everyone in the house a lot of the time and preferred to be alone. This was often painful to Bella, so much so that Jasper sometimes used his gift in order to spare himself, as well as her. If she tried to approach Michael or interact with him during those times, he would send her away with a "Goodbye Mommy" or start having a fit if she didn't leave immediately. Her thoughts would always vacillate among her desire to be with him and know him better, her parental inclination to force him to accept her company and learn to control his behavior, and her need to keep him calm and happy. Ultimately she would retreat, slightly heartbroken, but accepting that this was what he needed. She knew it was part of his illness, but it frustrated her. She longed to know his mind, and I wished there were a way for me to share my gift, or my knowledge, with her. She only knew half of what Michael was really capable of.

His mind continued to fascinate me. There wasn't enough information available to him. He soaked things up like a sponge, his brain cataloging and filing it all in perfect detail. I thought again how his mind was almost vampiric in its speed and accuracy of recall. He would find something that interested him, and then he would find out everything he could about it. He used the computer like a master programmer, scouring the Web for information, images, videos, sounds—anything that related to the topic of the moment. Sometimes the subject would be something visual: the logos for movie studios, for example. After perusing Bella and Charlie's limited DVD collection, he would look up the names of every studio listed and watch their logo clips on YouTube. He would sit with a whiteboard and draw the logos from memory. If he allowed it, Bella would try to engage him on the subject at hand. She quizzed him on which studio had produced which movie, and he amazed her (and us) by knowing every one by heart. He knew every state and country and their capitals. He knew all the U.S. Presidents by name and knew the order in which they served.

It was difficult for all of us to truly comprehend how so much intelligence and ability could be paired with so much limitation. Michael was still not fully bathroom trained, despite his age. He did not comprehend danger in any form; Bella was constantly vigilant when the stove was on, or when they did venture outside if they were near the street, or when he was having his tantrums, because he was incapable of understanding that he could be burned, or hit by a car, or that the furniture he knocked over and the objects he threw could cause him or someone else harm. Sounds, visuals, flavors, and textures were sometimes incredibly overpowering to him. Emotions were sometimes as painful to Michael as they were to Jasper, as though the autism had set his emotional radar to the highest possible level. He also could not understand or express abstract concepts, which made his extreme sensitivity even more frustrating.

For example, I knew from his thoughts that he disliked jelly on his sandwiches because the texture was strange and the flavor too sweet for him. Yet he could not express this feeling to Bella, who tried frequently to make him try new foods and would sometimes sneak jelly onto his sandwich because she thought he would enjoy it if he actually tried it. Unable to put his feelings into words, his only way of expressing his discontent was to scream or throw the sandwich on the floor, which would upset or anger Bella. Her anger would in turn increase Michael's frustration and fear.

Things were not always so emotionally fraught and disturbing, however. Sometimes Michael would seek out Bella on his own, walking quietly up behind her and putting his arms around her. They often played together. He loved being tickled, and she loved hearing him laugh. He would beg her to stop, but then when she did, he would beg her to tickle him again. They had snuggle time every morning, and they would lay together in Bella's bed and she would try to talk to him as much as she could, encouraging him to tell her his thoughts. She rarely got anything new from him, but sometimes she would ask the right question, or say the right thing, and he would share a new thought or interest or idea. She treated these like gold and would use them as a starting place to dig for more. We were always impressed by her ability to draw him out, as limited as it was, because it seemed that although she could not read his mind, she could often anticipate it or tap into it just enough to open a new path to pursue.

Then, of course, every night Bella sang to Michael, and every night I would sit beneath the window and listen. I often could hear the others listening as well. Jasper enjoyed the feeling in these moments because the quiet but overpowering love that Bella and Michael had for each other was in full force and rarely interrupted. Alice, who had no memory of being human, wondered about her own parents. Emmett, who was more teddy bear than grizzly most of the time (not that I'd ever say that to him), enjoyed the way Bella and Michael snuggled. Rosalie and Esme reveled in the vicarious experience of human motherhood.

Carlisle, who had never known his own mother, often thought instead of mine or Rosalie's or Esme's, all of whom he had known or been familiar with in our past lives. He thought Bella most resembled my mother, in her selflessness and generosity. His recollections, which I had seen in his mind a thousand times over the decades, were somehow made stronger and more vivid by these moments in Bella's human world, and we both saw them with new eyes. They had context and feeling and vibrancy that mere cold memories could never have on their own, like black and white photographs suddenly morphed into full color. My own memories, so long buried, resurfaced—still no more than fragments, but the pieces I could put together were far more complete than any I'd had before. I had photographs and mementos of my parents that I'd inherited after their deaths, but for the first time I could remember the scent of my father's pipe and the sound of my mother's laughter. I remembered the way my father would look at her sometimes, with feeling I could only now recognize as pure love and adoration. He had loved her completely, as she had loved him.

As the days passed with no overt threat from Victoria, we found ourselves spending less time patrolling and more time just listening. Bella and Michael were giving us back our humanity, something every one of us had been missing for half a century and much, much longer. We were quickly becoming addicted to the feeling.

Unfortunately, humanity has its limitations.


	6. Chapter 6

Bella

Days passed. Charlie and I agreed that Michael needed to be close to home for a while, both to ensure that he was fully recovered from his injuries and to avoid any more encounters with Jacob. So it was that I spent most of my time in the house, cleaning, cooking, and playing with Michael whenever he would let me.

It still broke my heart every time he sent me away. I knew it was a part of the autism, a need for control over his environment, and was not meant to hurt me. Yet every time I walked into his room only to be greeted with "Bye bye Mommy" I felt my heart tear just a little. Sometimes I'd push, staying just a little longer, sitting out of his immediate reach and staying quiet in the hope he'd forget I was there. If that worked, I'd spend those precious minutes watching my baby in action, marveling at the way his fingers flew over the laptop keyboard. He could type faster than anyone I'd ever met, and he was barely six years old.

If I stayed too long or pushed too hard, however, he would inevitably spiral into a fit. I had long since learned the markers: if he began pulling on his ear or flapping his fingers, then it was time to bow out and leave him alone. Much of the time it was like living around him, rather than with him. I was an essential part of his world because I fed and clothed and loved him, but I was irrelevant to his existence if he wasn't in immediate need of those things.

Not that I was complaining, not really. There were plenty of times that he came looking for me. He'd bring his laptop out and sit next to me, never saying a word, as though he simply needed the proximity. Other times he'd engage, showing me something fun or interesting he'd found, and we would talk about it as much as he was able. I would shower him with praise and show interest in anything he shared and try my best to model conversation. We also had fun, silly times where I would chase him around the house to the sound of his giggles, tickle him until he begged me to stop, or hide under blankets and pretend to be in outer space.

Ultimately, however, most of my time was spent on my own. That was both good and bad, because it left me lots of time to put the house in order and far too much time for thinking.

In the first few days after the carjacking, I'd expected almost every day to hear from Alice or Edward. They'd been so open and friendly, especially Alice, that I'd actually begun to look forward to one of the "girls' day" shopping trips she'd mentioned. Yet as the days began to drag on without even a phone call, I felt increasingly disappointed. Even Carlisle and Jasper stopped checking in after a day or two. It was hard to accept that perhaps the Cullens wouldn't become the friends I'd been hoping for after all. It only brought home to me harder how lonely I was in Forks, and how much I longed to be back in Arizona.

"Have you tried calling them?" Charlie asked me one night. "It would do you good to get out of the house, Bells; I'd be happy to watch Michael for a night."

"I don't know," I hedged. "I mean, I thought Alice had been sincere about going out, but I haven't heard from her and don't want to be a bother."

He'd frowned but hadn't pushed any further, and I'd gone back to being miserable.

I wasn't finding much peace in my sleep, either. I'd been plagued with nightmares since that horrible night, so every sleep cycle was filled with horrible, terrifying men tormenting me and hurting Michael. Sometimes it was Lonnie James, other times faceless nobodies, and on a few occasions even Jacob. I would often wake myself (and sometimes Charlie) screaming, and then I would rush to Michael's room and spend the night just watching him sleep.

Early one morning, after a particularly vivid nightmare in which I'd relived the carjacking yet again, I found myself staring at the ceiling, thinking of Edward. My dreams had never quite been able to answer the questions my conscious mind had raised that night. What exactly had Edward done to frighten off our attacker? Edward was young, and presumably strong, but Lonnie James had had a gun. Why would Edward's interference, unarmed, have had any bearing whatsoever on what happened next? Why had James run instead of just shooting Edward or threatening him into submission?

The answer was in the one detail that had never quite made sense—was, in fact, impossible—but that I somehow knew to be true nonetheless: Edward had destroyed the gun.

I turned onto my side and stared out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, and for a moment I thought I caught a shimmer of something in the trees just beyond the yard. A reflection, probably, I thought. My mind returned to its reeling. How was it even possible? I knew, in my heart, that I had seen the gun in pieces on the ground. Not merely disassembled either; it had been crushed into fragments. It was there for a moment, and then it had vanished. Where had it gone? I closed my eyes and focused on the moment Edward had arrived at the scene. I'd never seen him approach, had not even been aware of his presence in the parking lot before he was just standing there between me and Lonnie James.

_He'd said something after he destroyed the gun. Something that had made James run and never look back. _

I remembered sounds, but the words were lost to me. Frustrated and even more puzzled than ever, I gave up. I heard movement across the hall in Michael's room, so I slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe before heading out to check on him. He was lying on the floor on his stomach, a book spread out before him. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Good morning, Mommy."

"Good morning, Sweetie," I answered. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am hungry." His speech was formal, essentially repeating the script as it had been taught to him by his last therapist. Although his language skills had improved considerably after he'd started therapy, much of the progress had been in the form of canned responses to a set list of concrete questions. He had never asked _why_ he was hungry; _why_ was too abstract a concept. Still, in our world, any progress was cause for celebration.

"Good job using your words!" I praised him, as I too had been taught. His eyes shone with pride. He stood and skipped over to me, grabbing my hand and smiling widely. I leaned down to him, and he threw his arms around me for a hug. After a moment I stood up and led him down the stairs to the kitchen. He hopped up into his chair at the table.

"Apple Jacks!" he demanded. I looked at him to prompt him silently. He took the hint, and a few seconds of mental searching brought him to the correct question.

"Can I _please_ have some Apple Jacks?" he asked. I smiled.

"Yes, you can have some Apple Jacks," I answered. "Why don't you get me the milk?"

He jumped back down from his chair and ran to the fridge. I turned away and headed to the cabinet for a bowl.

I was across the kitchen when it happened.

Too far away to stop it.

He was overexcited and pleased with his successes.

He loved to help.

He really, _really_ hated making mistakes.

The gallon of milk hit the floor at one corner of the flimsy plastic jug, causing it to split. Milk poured all over the floor.

And in the middle of the puddle, my beautiful boy was screaming.

"Pick it uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!" he yelled. His hands rose up to slap against his ears as he began wailing. I rushed to pick up the bottle, trying to salvage as much of the milk as I could. I propped it upside down, lid still on, in the sink before grabbing the roll of paper towels. I had handled these tantrums hundreds of times, and I knew that cleaning up the mess was more effective in the first moments than trying to comfort Michael. As long as the mistake remained, he would never be comforted.

Too fast, too much adrenaline, too much pressure.

I slipped in the puddle, landing hard on my knee. I couldn't help yelling out—the pain was excruciating—but it set him off even further. I abandoned my attempt to clean up and reached for Michael just as he started banging his head against the refrigerator door. I pulled him to me, trying to protect him from himself. I forced him into my lap, tears of pain and frustration burning my eyes. I put my arms around his torso, trying to hold him still while I comforted him. I called his name in a soft rhythm, trying to bring him out of the fit, but he screamed louder and held his hands over his ears. When he began thrashing, his legs and feet flying everywhere, his head slamming backward into my chest with brutal force, I twisted my uninjured leg up and over his thighs. Still he arched, fighting against me, grunting and screaming.

I started rocking him, humming in his ear and calling his name. Our clothes were soaked with milk, which made it harder to hold onto him, but I tightened my grip as much as I could without crushing him. The added pressure only made him scream louder. Yanking one hand free, he reached up and dug his nails into my face. I bit my lip and tried not to react, trying instead to recapture his hand. At that moment he twisted and slipped out of my hold. He was fast, on his feet and running in a blink.

"Michael!" I called. "Michael!"

I pulled myself to my feet with the help of the refrigerator door handle. My knee throbbed and wobbled beneath me. I could feel my cheek swelling where he'd scratched. A crash from the living room told me where he'd gone. Limping in as quickly as I could, I found him with a second photograph in hand, ready to be thrown. Seeing me, he brought his hands up to his ears again and titled his head to the side. The frame of the photo dangled from his fingers as he let out a burst of short screeches.

"It's okay, baby," I told him. "Everything's okay."

I took a step closer. "Give me the picture, baby. It's okay, I'm happy, see?" I attempted the best smile I could muster. Autistic children are supposed to be impaired in reading faces, but Michael was like an empath. He could feel anger, or disappointment, or sadness as well as happiness. If he didn't believe that I was, in fact, happy rather than angry…

The frame hit the wall with another crash, and he was running again. I hadn't convinced him. Ignoring the pain, I scrambled after him, catching up with him at the base of the stairs. I pulled him back and hoisted him up over my shoulder the best I could. He'd gotten quite a bit bigger and heavier in the past few months, and it wouldn't be long before I would not be able to lift him, let alone carry him any distance. He thrashed and screamed, but I made it to the sofa and sank down gratefully into the cushions, careful to sit dead center to keep him from bashing his head on an armrest. I shifted him into one of the safe holds I'd been taught.

There was nothing else to do but wait for him to wear himself out. There was no point in trying to soothe him. My Michael was gone, temporarily. All I could do was be patient until he returned.

I took deep breaths, both to calm my frayed nerves and to model them for Michael, so he could start to settle himself. Minutes dragged as he continued to struggle, but after a while I could feel the tension in his body slackening. Soon the screaming stopped. At last he sank into my chest in exhaustion and looked up at me. I modeled more deep breaths, which he copied. We rocked slowly as I cradled him in my lap.

"I'm sorry, Mommy." His voice was small and quiet, and when I looked down at him, his eyes held pain, sadness, and remorse. He never wanted to behave this way. He simply couldn't control it. He didn't understand it. His lower lip trembled, and a fat tear rolled down his cheek.

"I know, Baby. I love you." I patted his head and held him close. "I know. It's okay. We're okay."

Seconds later, he was asleep. I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, trying to regain control over my own mind and body. Opening them, I examined him carefully for any injuries, but there didn't seem to be any. Not on the outside, anyway. A small sob and a shudder escaped him, a residual bubble of emotion needing to be released, and I wondered for the millionth time if we would ever be able to master this side of him, find the circuit in his mind that overloads and learn to shut it down before it could blow.

I brushed his closely shorn hair—he hated having it cut, so I always shaved it as short as possible to extend the time between cuts (and thus between those particularly fierce tantrums)—and kissed his forehead. In his sleep, you almost wouldn't know that he'd been so hysterical just a few minutes earlier. Tear tracks lingered on his cheeks, but otherwise, he was peaceful. I shifted him slightly to see if he would wake, but he was completely out. This had been a pretty bad one, so he would likely sleep it off for a few hours.

Carefully extracting myself from beneath him, I laid him out on the couch and covered him with a blanket before limping up to the bathroom. My hair was frazzled and stood out in chunks in the places where he had yanked it. My face looked years older, and three narrow, swollen trails along my cheek marked the spot where his nails had scratched me. My knee still throbbed, and using the sink for support I leaned forward to see the damage. An enormous bruise was already forming. This one, I knew, would hurt for days.

He was getting older. Bigger. Harder to control. He was my beautiful happiness, the sweetest boy I'd ever met. He was adorable, kind, brilliant, amazing, and so loving. Ninety-seven percent of the time you wouldn't know there was even anything different about him.

It was that other three percent that never failed to destroy me.

I burst into tears, letting them flow, releasing the sobs of pain and frustration and anger that always followed the tantrums. I had to let it out, because holding it in had only ever made things worse. I hadn't been able to handle moments like that until I'd learned not to bottle things up until they exploded. So I gripped the sides of the sink and let the emotions have me. As the sobs subsided and the tears ran out, I returned to the kitchen. On one knee I began sopping up the milk with paper towels. I wiped down the cabinets where they'd been splattered by Hurricane Michael. The little bit of milk that remained in the jug I poured into a pitcher and put back in the fridge, making a mental note to run to the store later for more.

With the mess cleared, I checked the locks on the doors before slowly and carefully climbing the stairs to my room. I stripped out of my soggy clothes and pulled a brush through the tangles in my hair, twisting and clipping it up off my neck. In the harsh bathroom light, I again examined myself for bruises. A few spots had risen on my thighs, above both knees, where I would likely have heel prints. One wrist was pretty sore, and there was a tender spot farther up the same arm. The swelling on my face had started to go down, and it didn't appear that he had broken the skin, so I was hopeful those marks would be gone in a few hours, or at least only barely noticeable. I couldn't deal with having to explain everything to Charlie.

I stepped gingerly into the shower to turn on the water. The last thing I needed was to take another spill, and I didn't quite have my balance back yet. The water took a moment to warm, so I went in search of my iPod and speakers and set them up on the counter while I waited. Quiet jazz filled the air; my nerves couldn't handle anything loud or upbeat. Under the spray I closed my eyes, absorbing the heat and losing myself in the music, tuning out everything else. I allowed myself to simply exist in this moment and let go of those before.

When Michael woke, hours later, I poured him a bowl of Apple Jacks and sat with him. I smiled and talked, trying, as always, to penetrate his world a little further. I was tired and on edge, but the worst was over. It was time to move on. As I watched my baby eat, his mind focused on something outside this room, I realized it didn't matter that I didn't have all the answers to my questions. My entire world was a question mark. Michael's mind was a puzzle I might never be able to solve. My husband had become someone I neither recognized nor wished to know. A complete stranger had tried to kidnap us and had pistol-whipped a 6-year-old boy for no apparent reason.

It didn't matter how Edward had saved us. It only mattered that he had. Even if I never spoke to him or any of the Cullens again, I would still be forever in their debt.

_Thank you, Edward. Wherever you are. _

****The autistic tantrum scene in this chapter was originally part of a story called **_**One Week**_** written by my friend Laura Audrey in 2008. Laura retooled that scene, which we'd both always loved, into a one-shot for use in the Fandom Gives Back for Autism fundraiser in 2011. She's allowed me to retool it one last time for use here. It was based on an actual moment between Laura and her son****.** **


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